Full text of "The Granite monthly : a magazine of literature, history and state progress"

■

ggfl 83m

IflBtNBGBSBEBBt

huh

n mu m ro w

■NT

BnHHHi

nHHnl

WSBssm

SUB

GENEALOGY COi-LECl iOix

ALLEN COUNTY PUBLIC LIBRARY

3 1833 01742 4471

GENEALOGY

974.2

G7659

1896

JAN-JUN

Digitized by the Internet Archive
in 2013

http://archive.org/details/granitemonthlymav20conc

iii Li

GRANITE MONTHLY

A New Hampshire Magazine

DEVOTED TO

HISTORY, BIOGRAPHY, LITERATURE,
AND STATE PROGRESS

V O L U M E X

CONCORD, X. H.

PUBLISHED BY THE GRANITE MONTHLY COMPANY
l8 9 6

y \

X 620674 _

:■■

CONCOREfc, N. H.

Printed, Illustrated, and Elect 'retyped by
Republican Press Association (Monitor Press
Concord, New Hampshire, U. S. A.

CONTENTS,

Dana, Charles Anderson, Hon. William E. Chandler
Douglas, Marian, Our Store of Old Letters .

Easter. Ella A. Wentworth ......

Educational Department, Fred Cowing . . , 90, 150, 212, 267, -^40

A Word to the New Hampshire Teachers' Reading Circle, Dr. Charles

J. Majory ........

Connection Between the Public Library and the Public School
Ada M. Thompson . . . . .

Decoration Ode, John B. Peaslee .
New Hampshire Teachers' Reading Circle
Regulations Governing the Examination and Certification of Schooi
Teachers ........

State Certification of Teachers, Prof. C. C. Rounds
Supervision of Public Schools, Hon. j. W. Dickinson
The School Flag, John B. Peaslee ....

The Teachers 1 Annuity Guild, Charles W. Morey
Esther's Defence, Emma E. Brown .

Fair Ormond, Edward A. Jenks .....

Farnum; G. C. Selden .......

Fogg, W. L., Light of Gold ......

French, Edward, The First Snowshoe Club in New Hampshir

Gorham, George H. Moses ....

Gowing, Fred, Educational Department . . . 90, 150, 212, 26

Greene, J. Alonzo, Henry Robinson ....

Griffith, George Bancroft, Among the Hills

Morning Among the Hills ....
Grover, Edwin Osgood, Revenge is Sweet

Hammond, Otis G., Sew all's Falls Historically Consii

Hanson, H. H., A Wish

Hiem;., J. F. Libby

Hoyt, Samuel, The Pianist .....

The Worshipper ......

Hunt, Rev. Orrin Robbins, A Winter in a Logging Cam?

Lost in the Woods ......

Hurd, Willis Edwin, Rest .......

I Glide Adown the Flashing Stream, Edward A. Jenks
Inexpression, Fred Lewis Pattee .

Jenks, Edward A., Fair Ormond

I Glide Adown the Flashing Stream

Orphean Music .

The Princes in the Tower
Jones, Mary C, May Song .

Ladd, Virginia B., One Morning

Lane, L. K. H., Elbridge A. Towle

Lawrence, J. 15., A Winter Midnight

Leavttt, Dudley, Some Memories of, Mrs. Polly A. Prescott

CONTENTS:

Leeds, Rev. S. P., The College Church at Hanover

Libby, J. F., Hiems . ...

Light of Gold, W. L. Fogg

Lisbon, George H. Moses ....

Locke, G. Scott, A Trip to Western Texas

Lost in the Woods, Rev. O. R. Hunt

Marshall, Annis Gage, Col. Wm. H. Stinson
Mason, Mrs. Ellen M., The Town of Conway

«« WAHLSPRUCHE V FOR THE N T EW YEAR

May Song, Mary C. Jones

McFarland, Henry, The Main Street of the Ocean

Metcalf, H. H., A Typical New England Farmer

Newport: A Model New England Town
Moments of Light, Milo Benedict
Morning Among the Hills, George Bancroft Griffith
Moses, George H., GORHAM

Lisbon

Raymond

New Hampshire Horses, H. C
New Hampshire Necrology

Abbot, J. H.

Abbott, Dr. Edward

Babb, Freeman .

Balch, Theodore

Bancroft, G. R.

Bedell, Hazen .

Black. J. W.

Blunt, E. O.

Bur bank, B. B. .

Bunton, Robert .

Campbell, J. C.

Chandler, John K.

Chapin, H. D. .

Ciiask. Charles Caro

Chase, S. B.

Coffin, Charles Carle-
Cole, G. H.

Collins, Hiram .

Connor, C. G.

Cossett, George A.

Crooker, Charles A

Cushman, Charles H

Custer, Dr. Emil

Dame, John

Damrell, C. L. .

Daniels, H. R. .

Daniels, J. S. .

Day, Edward E.

Doe, C.

Pearson

9 2 > i.

CONTENTS.

New Hampshire Necroloc
duxbury, j. w.
Eastman, Cyrus
Evans, Brice S.
Everett, C. W.
Fairbanks, Moses
Flanders, B. F.
Fullonton, John
Gay, William E.
George, C. S.
Gile, George W.
Gilman, Joseph .
Gilmore, Mitchell
Goss, Oliver
Greene, H. W.
Hall, M. P.
Holman, Sullivan-
Holmes, Mrs. Sarah
Hoopj-r. Rev. Noah
Horn. G. L.
Hosley, Col. J. D.
Hunt, George S.
Jevvett, Francis
Johnson, Nathaniel
Knox, Col. T. W.
Lang. Joseph E.
Leavttt, S. M. .
Lund, John C
McCutchins, Luther
Morrill, John .
Morse. J. N.
Murray, O. D. .
Nutter, Mrs. S. M.
Pattee, Dr. Luther
Paul, Amos
Peabody, Rev. Char
Pierce, John-
Pills bury, John J.
Pratt, Major L. B.
Preble, Rufus .
Rossiter, P. M.
Russell, M. W.
Shaw, C. C.
Smith, Joseph R.
Stearns, A. W.
Taylor, Jacob .
Taylor, W. P. .
Tilton, Newell
Trickey, J. B. .
Tyler, Rey. Josiah

y {Continued) x

Dins

LES

CONTEXTS.

New Hampshire Necrology (Continued^-.

Walworth, J. J.

Webster, Benjamin E. . .

Webster, Mrs. Ezekiel . . .

Wendell, Daniel H. . . »'"■".'■'■ m

West, Gex. F. S.

Whitfield, Col. S. A.

Wilkins, Alexander M. .

Woods, G. D

Woolson, Moses . .

Newport: A Model New England Town, H. H. Metcalf
Niles, Edward C, Berlin: A Town of To-day

Orphean Music, Edward A. Jenks

One Morning, Virginia B. Ladd

Our Store of Old Letters, Marian Douglas .

Pattee, Fred Lewis, Inexpression

Yesterday ......

Pearson, H. C. New Hampshire Horses
Perry, Fiances H., Sweet May ....

Phalen, Frank L., An Imperishable Epitaph .
Phillips, Helen E , The Land of Evangeline .
Prescott, Mrs Polly A., Some Memories of Dudley Leavitt

Raymond, George H. Moses ....

Rest, Willis Edwin Hurd

Revenge is Sweet. Edwin Osgood Grover

Roberts, Caroline M.. A Sunset REFLECTION

Robinson, Henry. Dr. J. Alonzo Greene

Roentgen's "X Ray" Photography, Ensign Lloyd H. Chandler

Sanborn. Victor Channing, The American and English Sameornes

Selden. G. C, FARNUM

Sewali/s Falls Historically Considered, Otis G. Hammond
Some MEMORIES of Dudley Leavitt, Mrs. Polly A. Prescott .
Some Passing Thoughts on Literature, Miio Benedict .
Stinson, Col. Wm. H., Annis Gage Marshall
Sweet May. Frances H. Perry .......

Swett, Sara M. .........

Swett, Sara M. The Doctor's Thanksgiving Story

Swift, Fletcher Harper, Aspiration ......

Tenney, Rev. E. P. . . . . .

Tenney, E. P., The Legend of John Levin and Mary Glasse,

64, 125, 207,
The Administration of a Great Department in the City of Boston,

Bertrand T. Wheeler ... '.

The American and English Samrornes, Victor Channing Sanborn
The College Church at Hanover, Rev. S. P. Leeds
The Doctor's Thanksgiving Story, Sara M. Swett
The Fairy King, r.x-Governor Moody Currier

326, 38S

iii -;O.A*

CONTENTS.

The First Snowshqe Club in New Hampshire, Edward French
THE Haunts OF the Snowbird, Charles Henry Chesley

The Land of Evangeline, Helen E. Phillips

The Legend of John Levin and Mary Glasse, E. P. Tenney,

64, 125, 207,
Tm Main Street of The Ocean, Henry McFarland
The Pianist, Samuel Hoyt . .......

in* 1 his* v^ in 1 1 i i : Tower, Edward A. Jenfcs ....

The Prize Stories

txiiETY of Colonial Wars in New Hampshire, John C. Thorne
Thi Spare Front Room, Clara Augusta Trasik
Till! Sunset Iand, Beto Chapin
Tff* To#*N oi Cmkwav. Mrs. Ellen M. Maso>n .
: 1 1 V. 1 : MiiTK. Samuel Hoyt ....

fj •,.••■. \ijhu C., A Visit to Westminster Arbey

Tfu S*K'iETY of Colonial Wars in Ne:iv Hampshire
l ! ; ■ RIDGE A-, L. K. H. Lane . .....

ra Augusta, The Spare Front Room .

' . * 1 cue" for the New Year, Mrs. Ellen M. Mason .

chide Cillej, A Question . .....

■ , i;i:.t A., Easter ... .....

Arrey. A Visit to, John C. Thorne ....

• • : . T., The Administration of a Great Department i
l> ston .... .....

\i * . \ ' ■: ■■■■; . i. L. Pattee

3, 326,

th:;

170
1 1 1
376

388

279

3° 6
124

97
337
169

So
347
J 54
227

337
205
169

264
226
227

301

300

«*£

£fc*

?*97Y D

W Mi

^ v

5— <ns
itdt%

c©fx«*i> ■ n ft

Wr OR'AHITf /WW C°M W

1896

We hold over

7000 letters

from Eminent Doctors

PROVING

XkllC IDKAl, TOXIC

I Body

TO Fortify ii and

II Brain

Mailed Free. i

j Descriptive Book with Testimony and j

Portraits

j 0I : NOTED CELEBRITIES.

Beneficial and Affreeable.

lli-iiy Tettt Proves Reputation.

Avoid Suh>.f itiif ions. A*k for * Vin Mariani."
Ai DruuariMld and Fancy Grocers.

MARIAN! & CO.,

p»p.m 4i B,i. H«i«i>aiiii. 52 W. 15th St., Nev York.

i^im»os '.'.is Oxford Street.

f AMERICAN I

I SIX DOLLAR *fo I
I TYPEWRITER V I

¥¥¥

is fust t>.e tiling for business andpro*

fes^ionai men wko have a few letters
to write and want those utters to
look well. Doctors and lawyers, es-
pecially, find ii <very handy. Chil-
dren easily and quickly learn to
write em it.

Ii will do fust as rood work us
the $1 00.00 machines. Of course
it is not quite as fast. It is simply
constructed, easily learned, easily
operated.

We'll send you a letter writ. ''it
•71 it — along with a special circ ar
— if you'll send us your eddrets.

I 65 FIFTH AVE., NEW YORK J

Andrews *
School J

Furnishing |
Company |

&4* &&&&&& &&&&&&^^^<£*£

Ask any Mother

/ ■■■■ )■■

what she thinks of life insurance and
she will probably tell you that it is the
duty of every father to protect his

■ ■ ,
4h

children by calling on

,.'

Nicholas Frost,

of Concord and obtaining- through
hirn one of the valuable policies sold
by the

State Mutual Life

OF WORCESTER.

Specimen Policy on Application.

loooooc-r-.-v- c-x-oc oocx-) ■-_• -• c o<_ o <"ir,

JANUARY* 1696.

CP/^TirfiTd

Newport: A Model New England Towx, H. H. Metcalf .

The American and English Sambornes.. With a Notice^of Rev.

Stephen Bachiler (concluded), Victor Channing Sanborn .
A Trip to Western Texas, G. Scott Locke . . .

Orphean Music, Edward A. Jenks

Dr. J. Alonzo Greene, Henry Robinson . . . *.' : '■*;•

Rest, Willis Edwin Hurd . . . • . . . . . .

The Legend of John Levin and Mary Qlasse, E. P. Tenney .
Esther's Defence, Emma E. Brown . ... . . .

The Sunset Land, Bela Chapin . . . . ...

The Doctor's Thanksgiving Story, Sara M. Swett .

" WAHLSPRUCHE V for the New Year (Horn the German), Mrs. Ellen

&1. Mason ..... ......

Educational Department, Fred Gowiag . . . - -
New Hampshire Necrology" . . . . .

The Prize Stories . ..........

A Winter in a Loggirg Camp,* by Rev. O. R. Hunt, and the town
of Raymond, by George H. Moses, will be features of
the February Granite. Monthly.

Subscription : 52. co per year ; St. 50 if paid in advance : 20 cents per copy.
Entered at the pnst-office at Concord. X. H., as second class matter.
Copyright. 1S96, by the Granite Monthly Company. All rights reserved.
Illustrated, printed, and electrotyped by the Republican Press Association, Concord. N. K.

3^
45
49
5i
63
64

78
80
81

89
90
92
97

E. H. Rollins & Sons,

53 State Street, Boston, Mass.,
OFFER:

City of South Denver, Colo . water

Town of Berlin, X. II. . . . .

Town of Greeley, Colo. .

Town of Mention, Vt., gold

Town; of Newport, Vt , gold . ...

Middlesex County, Mass.

Worcester County, Maryland .

Piercvj County, Wash., gold

SonefEaa County, CaL, gold

Boston & Albany R. K. .

Maine Shore Line R. R

Old Colony R. R , gold ....
Concord & Montreal R. R. class 4 stock

(leased to the Boston & Maine R. R.)
Suncow.,k Valley R. R. company stock

(leased to Concord & Montreal R. R.)
New York & New Jersey Tel. Co.

Send for circular giving description and prices.

City of Medford, Mass. .

4's

City of Quincy, Mass., gold

4's

City of Hyde Park, Mass.

4*s

City of Bay City, Mich. . .

City of Maiden, Mass.

4 v

City of Belfast, Maine ...

4's

City of Fresno, CaL, gold

5'?

City of Los Angeles, CaL, gold

4><'s

City of Portland, Ore , gold

5'- s

City of Athens, Pa

4/2^

City of Louisville, Kentucky . 4*s

and 7's

City of Lincoln, Neb.

6's

City of Maryville, Mo.

6's

City- of Dalles. Ore., gold

6's

City of Wilmington, N. C.

5* s

City of Cleveland, Ohio .

5' s

City of Great Falls, Mont., gold

6's

6s
4K's

5's
4's
4's
4's

5' s

6's
6's
4's

6's

4's

6%
5's

Good Housekeeping

FOR LS9G.

Rich and rare is the Bill of Fare,

The caterer is about to fix,
And the Table of Contents to prepare,

Of Good Housekeeping foi "96.

TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION:

$2 00 a year; -si.oo for s : x months; 50 cents
for three months; the latter concession being
made in order to introduce Good Housekeeping
as v. idely as possible into homes where it has
not been known, its business history having
demonstrated that it holds well its place, wher-
ever it once gets a foothold.

For $2.25, Good Housekeeping for one year,
and " Catherine Owen's celebrated New Cook
Book," oil cloth binding, will be sent, postpaid.

For $3.00, Good Housekeeping and "Miss Par-
loa's Kitchen Companion," $2.50, 966 pp., the
largest and best work of its distingui-hed author.

This gives a rare opportunity to secure the best
work of two of Good Housekeeping's old-time
and favorite contributors — books of rare value,
widely recognized and commended, both for their
■domestic and literary merits and excellence.
CLARE W. BRYAN CO., Springfield, ."Ua.ss.

32311>0> r FRITZ, 31. T>.

Pr;v tier limited to

Diseases of the Eye, Ear,
Nose, and Throat.

Office hours, o to 12 end 2 to 4,

Rooms 37 and 38, Pickering Bldg.
MANCHESTER, N. H.

ELECTROTYPES

Of any of the engravings appearing
in the Granite Monthly may be
purchased of us for the small sum of
15 cents per square inch. Positively
no originals loaned. Address
Grani'te Monthly Co., Concord, N. H.

- is a

nurural

and «

i.n

ific nay

kccoiuj

IMi «vli

Itc

ver

id Attired

: he

Urli

. wealt

md pow<

We te

icu that

av,

and

ihe mean-

ar>-

v.,ur ,,

Mil

Vital Hji

?"i

etism a

ni your

ill:

the

unseen p<

ttlT

tl.j

t COUl!

els Nntur

forces.

Inter

i>iK

circulars free.

1'K

A.NUKH-

. G. C,

Mas

•"

<• Temp

le, Cliic

«*

TJJBER G<

m.os

every

<!.-

scrijiti.jn.

Send f,

r parti.

lit'IiBKH

. Runs

is City,

KIMBALL UNION ACADEMY,

MERIDEN, N. H.

Sew Buildings. Enlarged Facilities. Delight-
ful Surroundings. Four-years courses of study.
The Departments of Oratory and Physical Culture
just established. Young men and women fitted
for our best colleges. Students of limited means
received on thy " S100 a year plan." Fall term
begins Sept. 11, 1895. Send for catalogue.

W. H. CUMMINGS, A. M., Principal.

- v , w- --

I *

I o

J •5*'

i s

;
■-* . ..*

•

^ ,~

*-'

: •
> >.- J.

. jf "'; ;

• "i '

% - *

. : '

;."_

: - •

>■"■>■■ "•

• if

■ V;

i ;

j :

-%>* -

. .

The Granite Monthly.

Vol. XX.

JANUARY, i%6.

No. i.

NEWPORT: A MODEL NEW ENGLAND TOWN.
By H. H. Metastlff.

S^ipl HERE is no town in

N e w H a m psh i re ,
or in ail New Eng-
land, more fav-
ored by nature
with all the ele-
ments tending to
induce industry, enterprise, thrift,
and prosperity among its people, than
the town of Newport, shire of '-Little
Sullivan." Nor is there anywhere
to be found a community which has
more fully utilized its opportunities
than that which peoples the banks of
Sugar river, and the pleasant hill-

sides 'Overlooking the beautiful, wind-
ing v.:a!ley through- which the pure
waters of Lake Sunapee, and the
tributary streams from the mountains
of Grantham and Lempster, find their
way to the stately Connecticut.

It is not claimed for Newport or its
people that every possible advance
has been made, every desirable im-
provement effected, or that it is not
excelled in some respect by some
other :own or towns ; but it may be
maintained successfully that, on the
whole, no country town has more
generally improved its natural re-

A West View of Newport Village. Printed and Parried by Simon Brown, Newport, i834.
Dravn and engraved by Henry E. Baldwin. Used by courtesy of E. C. Hitchcock.

NEWPORT.

•'*-.

interests are and have always been
an important factor in its prosperity.
Settled originally by a sturdy, indus-
trious, intelligent, and God-fearing
class of people, whose minds and the
character of whose descendants were
strengthened and elevated by the
mysterious influence of grand and
beautiful scenery, its population has
always been of the highest order, and

going out
been men

into
and

Mrs. Sarah J. Hale.

sources, secured for its people a

higher average degree of material

prosperity, and a fuller measure of

intelligence, maintained a

higher standard of morality

— or has, in short, developed

a higher type of manhood

and womanhood within its

borders, and sent out into

the land and world a

stronger influence for good.
Favored w ith a wide va-
riety of soil of more than

average fertility, it is, and

has been from its earliest history, an
excellent agri-
cultural town
in the general
sense, with no
marked tenden-
cy to specialties.
Supplied with
abundant and
almost unfailing
water power, its
Dr. John l. Swett. manufacturing

John Woods

V-

its representatives,
other states, have
women of com-
manding power,
while the influ-
ence of the town
itself upon the
general bod}- pol-
itic, has been sec-
ond to that of no
other of equal
population.

And yet, civi-
lization had established her
haunts, reared her altars,
and opened her schools up-
on the banks of the Piscat-
aqua, the Cocheco, and the
Squamscott, more than a
hundred years before the
white man's foot had
pressed the soil of the
Sugar River valley, and a
generation of her pioneers
had done their work along the
Merrimack before the first band of
settlers from the " Land of Steady
Habits" pitched their camp in the
Newport forests.

x\bout the middle of the last cen-
tury, as is reputed, a noted hunter
and trapper of Killingworth, Conn.,
named Eastman, made his way up
the valley of the Connecticut to the
mouth of Sugar river, since thus
named from the extensive growth of

a Chapii". Rowell

NEWPORT

sugar maples

in the region

through w h i e h

^ it flows. He

^ \ extended his trip

up the valley of

% this tributary

stream till he

came to the

present lo-

F. W. Lewis. , • ,

cation or
Newport village, where, on the
broad meadows to the south-
ward, he found excellent trap-
ping ground, while he became
strongly impressed with the
richness of the soil and the

desirability of the
agricultural set-
tlers. Returning
home loaded with
furs at the close
of the season, he
gave a glowing
account of the
natural advan-

location for

a ;

Austin Corci

ing a charter for
a township there.

Cap!. Set"! Richards

Dr. Thomas Sanborn.

tages of the region he had penetrated.,
and inspired his friends and neigh-
bors to move in the matter of seeur-

Subsequently this
man, Eastman,
the first w h i t e
man kno w n to
have visited this
region, made an-
other excursion
to the locality, from which he
never returned. A few years
later, after the settlement of
the town, the discovery of a
human skeleton, near a small
stream about a mile west of
where the village now stands,
was regarded as in a measure
solving the fate of the unfor-
tunate trapper, who, through
sickness or acci-
dent, was sup-
p o s e d t o h a v e
there perished.

On October 6,
1761, a charter
for the township
of Newport was
granted by King
George the Third

tO Sixty-One Citi- Fred Claggai*.

NEWPORT.

Tr:e Jcnks Homer.tead.

zens of Killingworth and other
towns in New London county, Con-
necticut, through Benning Went-
worth, governor and couimander in
chief of the province of New Hamp-
shire. These grantees, .however,
were not the men who became the
settlers of Xewport, they having gen-
erally disposed of their rights to
others for a consideration, and it was
not until three years after the charter
was granted that action was taken in
regard to the distribution of shares
under the same. December 25, 1764,
there was a meeting of the proprie-
tors at Killingworth, and a commit-
tee was appointed to proceed to
Charlestown (Number Four), the

< \ ' ■■ ■ 4

nearest settlement, and
"attend to the allotment
of the shares," which
committee, consisting of
Stephen Wilcox, Robert
Lane, John Crane, and
Isaac Kelsey, attended to
the duty in July following,
in the fall of which year
six young men came up
from Killingworth, cleared
each a few acres of land,
got in a crop of rye, and
made other preparations
for permanent settlement
and a season's work the
folio wing year.

Early in June, 1766, a party of

J ki'

Old Court House.

Edward A. Jenks.

eight men, including Stephen Wil-
cox and his two sons, Jesse and
Pkineas, Samuel Hurd, Absalom
Kelsey, and Ezra Parmelee, came up
from Killingworth and established
the first permanent settlement.
Tliey located to the west and south-
west of the present village, along
what is the present road to Unity
Springs, on the west side of the south
bank of the river.

The party arrived within the limits
of the township on Saturday night,

NEWPORT.

camped in the region of Pike
hill, being hindered by bad
travelling, pushed on to their
destination the next morning,
and, it being Sunday, en-
gaged in religions worship
under a large tree, the same
being conducted by Deacon
Stephen Wilcox, whose de-
scendants were leading citi-
zens of the town in subse-
quent generations. It is as-
serted, without dispute, that

from

- -

I s

(

Edes Block.

that day to this, no Sunday has
passed without religious observance
of some kind in the town of Newport.
A number of accessions were made
to the party of settlers dur-
ing the season, and the
next year a fresh start
was made with the further
accessions and the wives of .
several settlers also added
to the number. A "cart
road " had been opened to
Charlestown, which was
the base of supplies for
the settlers, running over
the Unity hills with more
regard for directness than
the avoidance of uncom-
fortable grades, according
to the usual old-time way.

B BBI

Residence of A. S. Wait.

Em the fall of this year, October 13,
1767, it appears that the first regular
meeting of the proprietors within the
towin was holden at the house of Jesse
Wilcox, being called to order by Ben-
jamin Bellows of Walpole, one of
" Kis Majesty's Justices." Stephen
Wilcox was chosen moderator; Ben-
jamin Giles, clerk; Samuel Hurd,
Charles Avery, and Zephaniah Clark,
assessors ; and a committee, of which
Benjamin Giles was chairman, was
also chosen "to lay out a second
division of land." The original divi-
sion, it is understood, had consisted
of lots of fifteen acres to each settler,
running east and west, across the
meadow, while at this meeting it was

)

• j

- '

; -

■■■

:'vJ

•

. m

... .-

Vest

Side of

Main

Street.

NEWPORT.

that any proprietor who with his wife
should become an inhabitant of the
town, before the first of July follow-
ing, should also have eighty acres,
thus putting a premium upon the
virtue of establishing the family re-
lationship.

Hon. Ralph Metcalf.

voted to lay out to each proprietor
thirty-five acres more, either at the
east or west end of the lots already
laid out. The meeting adjourned
three days to the house of Zephaniah
Clark, when it was voted that Zeph-
aiiiah Clark, Ebenezer Merritt. Benja-
min Bragg, Samuel Hurd, and Jesse
Wilcox, having families in town, have
each eighty acres of land, and also

j»^-:T-'^-'-.'"« • .•-v-::----- . --.-—-- -, zp

I ,

Hon. Edmund Burkf

P£ ;

. ;••'•'■•"'

II F -

53* I

£.j£k

I %

The Edn jnd Bur-.-- Pi

Benjamin Giles, the first town
eler.k, who came in 1767, was a
natrve of Ireland, and a man of great
energy and force of char-
acter. He was about fifty
years of age when he came
to Newport from Groton,
Conn. He appreciated the
settlement's need of milling
privileges, and the natural
opportunity presented for
meeting the same, and he
proposed the building of a
saw- and corn- mi 11 at the
falls in the " East Branch "
or main stream of Sugar
river, at the east part of
the town, where the Gran-
ite State mills at Guild

NEWPORT,

now stand : and at an ad-
journed meeting of the pro-
prietors, held October 29,
of the same year, he was
voted a tract of one hun-
dred acres of land around
and including the falls in
the river at this point, and
a tax or rate to the value
of four days' labor 011 each
proprietor's right or share
was also voted, for his en-
couragement, toward build-
ing the proposed mills.
These mills were built and
ready for operation in Sep-

XM If.

i f ■

3# !

/ 2

tember, 176;

Thus was taken the

first practical step toward manufac-
turing in the town of Newport, it

Residence of Hon. Dexter Richards.

Revolutionary period. He was a
delegate in the convention at Exeter,
in 1 7 75-' 76, called to organize a pro-
visional government after the flight
of Gov. John Wentworth, and was
one of the committee of twelve, chos-
en from the delegates to constitute
an upper house, or senate, over
which Meshech Weare, the first gov-
ernor of the state, presided. He also

Hon. De*ter Richards.

having been as substantially encour-
aged by the settlers of the town as
has been the establishment of any
manufacturing industry anywhere in
later years.

Benjamin Giles seems to have been
the leading man of the town in the

*jg4 f

Hor.. Edwin O. Starard.

NEWPORT.

Congregational Church.

served in several other sessions of the
provincial or state congress, and was
a member of the convention at Con-
cord, in June, 17S2, to settle a per-
manent plan of government. He
died December 9, 1787, at the age of
seventy years.

The first settlers of the town were
Congregationalists, and devout wor-
shippers, as has been seen, holding
services from Sunday to Sunday in
their different homes, as
their town, or "proprie-
tors'," meetings were also
held; but in 1772 it was
determined to erect a build-
ing which should be used
for public, religious, and
school purposes, and a tax
of fifteen shillings on each
proprietor was levied to ;
meet the expense.

The building was to be
thirty feet long by twenty 1

feet wide, with one fire- raxia _.

place, and to be ready for

"-'<■'% v.^Q iii July, 1773. The
building was square-roofed,
J covered with rough boards,
;-^ fastened on with wooden
pegs, and located on the
plain just south of what is
now known as the Claggett
place, on the Unity road.

Although religious ser-
vices were maintained week-
ly, it was not until October
28, 1779, that a church or-
ganization was effected. At
that date articles of faith,
form of covenant, and rules
of discipline were adopted
and signed by the following,
constituting the first church
organized in town : Robert
Lane, Daniel Dudley, Daniel
Buell, Aaron Buell, Elias Bascom,
Matthew Buell, Josiah Stevens, Ben-
jamin Giles, Esther Buell, Susannah
Dudley, Eydia Kurd, Eunice Bas-
com, Mary Stevens, Esther Lane,
Chloe Wilcox, Mary Buell, Jane
Buell. Thus it will be seen that
the women were in the majority even
in the first church in Newport, as is
the case there and everywhere at the
present day.

■-.v

.-■.. m

t •
f

1 m '

Baptist Church.

NEWPORT.

It was not, however, until January,
1 7 S3, that a pastor was regularly set-
tled over this church in the person
of Rev. John Remele, who came at a
salary of seventy pounds per annum
and continued eight years in the pas-
torate, being dismissed October. 1791.

The church was without a pastor
for more than four years, but mean-
while the town had erected a new
meeting-house, land for the same
having been purchased by vote of
the town at a meeting held Novem-
ber 7, 1 791, the site being a slight
elevation at the four corners, at the
foot of Claremont hill so called.
Christopher Xewton, Jeremiah Jeuks,

•

, : - nr.r

\ .

Newport House and Method rst Church.

Phineas Chapin, Samuel Hurd, and
Aaron Buell were the committee ap-
pointed to build the house, which
was raised June 16, 1793, and soon
after completed. It was at the rais-
ing of this building that a son of the
Rev. Job Seamans. of New London,
who had come over with others to
assist in the work, was killed by a
fall.

December 13, 1795, Abijah Wines,
a young citizen of the town, and the
first Newport graduate from Dart-
mouth College ( class of 1794), was
called to the pastorate, accepted, was
installed, and served faithfully twenty-

1 1

* 1

Iff!

If j

; " ■ m

■ " ,.,.., ■

;

• ;i

Old Universalis*

Church.

ome years. Two years later Rev.
J amies R. Wheelock, a grandson of
tfog first president of Dartmouth, was
installed and continued four years,
during which time, in 1S22, the pres-
ent stately house of worship, known
as the "South church," was erected.
In January, 1S24, the Rev. John
\\"oods, the most notable of all New-
port's clergymen, became pastor and
continued till July, 1S51. He was a
nmn of dignified presence and austere
manners, and his pulpit portrayals of

/• >■ -

b-s»i3

Catnouc Church.

NEWPORT.

■ ' : ^w«%.'

i p
i

|gK.

istry, leaving the church with a mem-
bership of 295, and a Sunday-school
of 275 scholars.

Congregationalism, however, has
not alone "held the fort" in New-
port, even from the early days. A
colony of settlers came
up from central Massa-
chusetts in 1770, and lo-
cated in the northwest
portion of the town and
the corner of Croydon,
who were generally Bap-
tists, and the same year
when the Congre-
gational church
was established
(1779) they also
organized a
church at what
was long known

nm^00*

'ML Lei . £

Residence
Conereg

Residence c c G. W. Britton.
Residence of C W. Rour.se « el.
Old Nettleton House and Residence of John McCrillis.
Residences o' Col. S. M. Richards and. Hon. Levi Bartor

the terrors of the ' ' wrath to
are remembered by many
at the present day with feel-
ings akin to awe. Subse-
quent pastors of this church
have been Revs. Henr y
Cumniings, G. R. \V. Scott
(during whose pastorate
the interior of the church
edifice was remodelled, and
a vestry built), E. K. P.
Abbott, Charles X. Flan-
ders, George F. Kengott,
and John Pearson Pillsbury,
the latter of whom has just
closed a three 'years' min-

come

- «■■-'- as " North ville,"
Dunton. now North New-

onage. port. The orig-

inal members of the church were Seth
Wheeler, Elias Metcalf, William Hav-
en,, F.zekiel Powers, Mrs. Seth Wheel-
er, Mrs. Elias Metcalf, Mrs. William
Haven, and Mrs. Nathaniel Wheeler.
Rev. Bial Ledoyt was the first pastor,
serving from 1791 till 1S05.

■;*■ .

- • ■ ^

NEWPORT.

The church flourished, and in 1794 church building was erected in the
a house of worship, forty-four feet village, at the north end of the coin-
square, was built near the cemetery, mon (where, with alterations and im-
services having been previously held provements, it still remains), and the

;'-..-•

" .

i
^ ft

-aX*

Prof. Jesse M. Earton.
Rev. John P. Pillsbury.

Dr. Christopher SanEKarn.
Rev. H. D. Deetr.

Or. Thomas B. Sanborn.
Prof. Herbert J. Barton.

in private houses, in barns, and in Rev- Ira Pearson, from Hartland, Vt.,

the school-house. Several clergymen was installed as pastor, who, with a

held brief pastorates between 1805 few years interregnum, ministered to

and 1S21, in which latter year a new the people with great success for

NEWPORT.

fejh

- V i ....

IT N

■ .^

John McCrillis.

E. M. Ken-.pton.

eighteen years. Succeeding pastors
have been Revs. Orin Tracy, Joseph
Freeman, Win. M. Guilford, Paul S.
Adams, David Jones, Foster Henry,
Halsey C. Leavitt, Charles F. Hoi-
brook, Frank T. Latham, and \V. F.
Grant, with brief incumbencies by
others. The present pastor is Rev.
Joseph F. Fielden, settled March i,
1892. The church has 170 members,
and the Sunday-school, 157.

The town had grown and pros-

I l

J -1 i.

Court House ar.d Town hall.

pered as a matter of course, while the
ehurehes were flourishing. The in-
t&abitants in 1775 numbered 157, and
in 1790 had reached 7S0. In 1850
the population was 2,020, and in
1890 it was 2,623.

While the first settlers had located
on the western margin of the Sugar
River valley, others came in and
established themselves on the other
side of the valley, where the present
village is located, and in a few years
the center of business was here re-
nKOved, though even here there was,
for a long time, a spirit of rivalry
between the north and south ends.

A grist-mill, the first within the
present village limits, had been built
by- Daniel Dudley in 1787, on the east
branch, of the river ; and about 1790,
tb.se first framed house was erected
by Isaac Redington at the north-east
corner of the present Main and Maple
streets, which was long after known
as the " old red store." Mr. Reding-
ton had been in trade on the other
side of the river and he continued
here, and also had a hotel in connec-
tion.

The opening of the "Croydon

NEWPORT.

Turnpike" in 1S04, from Lebanon
to Concord, through Croydon and
Goshen, which Utilized the road
down the east side of the valley,
gave an impetus to business. In
1S11, Gordon Buell erected a hotel,
known as the " Rising Sun Tavern,"
a short distance south of Redington's,
the proprietorship of which was soon
assumed by Sylvanus Richards, pro-
genitor of the Richards family in
Newport, who was succeeded by his
son, Capt. Seth Richards.

At the upper end of the village,
upon the site of what is now the
spacious Richards block, Col. Wil-
liam Cheney, who had come into
town from Alstead, and had also been
in trade on the west side, erected in
18 10 a long, two-story block of stores,
the most pretentious business struc-
ture in town for many years. He,
himself, with his son, William H.

Richards Free Library.

Cheney, who afterward succeeded
him, 'Occupied the northerly store in
eeneiral mercantile business. Colonel

- ft

t 1

■ -,

f ~

Albert S. Wait.

Hon. L. W. Barter

George R. Brown.

NEWPORT.

Cheney was a man of great energy, the influence of Colonel Cheney, the

enterprise, and public spirit. He de- town secured for itself the magnificent

veloped the water power, erected a common at the north part of the vil-

cotton factory, an oil mill, and saw- lage, now unsurpassed in beauty by

and grist-mills, and subsequently pur- any village park in the state. On this

*'"

■

' V

• I

'•

■

•' ■ -rat-"-

a«S

>.-s\

\«

George H. Fairbanks.
William Nourse.

E. C. Converse.

Col. Edmund Wr<=.-eler.
Francis Boardman.

William Dunton.

R. P. Claggett.

chased the entire water power at Sun-
apee Harbor, and built mills there
also. In 1814-' 15 he erected a large
hotel on the site where the present
Newport House stands. Through

common, for a long series of years,
were holden the old-time regimental
musters, which so delighted the
hearts of the boys of the period, who
resraled themselves on new cider and

NEWPORT.

gdnsrerbre&d t^hile watch-in? the won-
derful evolutions of the militia.

About the time when Colonel Che-
ney erected his first block, the old Xet-
tletcn block was erected on the other
side of the street where the new
I^ewi? block now stands. Here Jere-
miah Kelsey, Aaron Xettleton, Bela

. - „..

Wheeler"

Xettleton, and others, were
successively in trade. In
1S16, James Breek, another
pushing merchant, came down
from Croydon, built a brick
store at the lower end, and
was for many years in trade.
In company with Josiah For-
saith, he built the Eagle hotel,
a spacious, three-story struc-
ture, now Hdes' block, which
was a popular public house
for a long time, principally under the
management of Capt. John Silver.
This hotel and the original Newport
House, built by Colonel Cheney and
subsequently conducted by Col. Joel
Xettleton and his sons, were rival
establishments and among the best
in the state. The present Xewport
House, built after the original one
was destroyed by fire in i36o, has

been owned and managed by Elbridge
L, Putney with great success for
more than thirty years. Mr. Putney
is not only one of the oldest but one
of the most popular landlords in Xew
Hampshire.

In rS2y the new count}' of Sullivan
was established, embracing the fifteen
northern towns of the old
count)' of Cheshire, and
Newport, by vote of the
people, was made the shire
town, though Claremont
contested strongly for the
distinction. Already a
two-story brick building
had been erected by the
town, with a town hall
below and • a court room
for the use of the county
above, at a cost of $3,500.

M H

■

fis Block end The DeWo!f.

Oliv

Jenks was chairman of the
boaxd of selectmen who certified its
completion. This Oliver Jenks was
one of a notable family in Xewport.
His father, Jeremiah Jenks, had set-
tled, in the town as early as 1776,
coming from Smithfield, R. I., and
was;- at one time the largest land-
holder and heaviest taxpayer in town.
In 17S0 he built a frame house, still

NEWPORT.

<>"4 ^^

«,

\ * 1 ~

i m - / i

Rear-Admira I George E. Belknap.

standing as the ell part of the man-
sion on the old Jenks place, a mile
and a half northwest of the village,
which yet remains in the family name.
Here were born his eight children, in-
cluding Oliver and Thomas Bowen,
the latter of whom became a cotton
manufacturer of Cumberland, R. I.,
and was the father of the distinguished
congressman, Thomas A. Jenckes, of
that state.

Here, too, were born the sixteen
children of Oliver and Levina (Jack-
son) Jenks, ten of whom, including
George E., and Edward A., both
subsequently well known in New
Hampshire journalism, grew up and
passed middle life.

In 1873 a spacious new courthouse
and town hall building was erected
on Main street near the old one, and
the latter building conveyed to Union
district for school purposes, for which
it was remodelled and has since been
occupied. In June, 1885, this new
building was swept away by a disas-

trous fire, which also destroyed the
old Nettleton block and several other
buildings ; but a year later the pres-
ent elegant structure, one of the best
in the state, had taken its place.

The Congregational and Baptist
churches could not forever monopo-
lize the religious field in Newport.
Methodism got a start as early as
1S30, when, through the influence of
Peter Wakefield of Northville, a class
was formed and meetings held, first
in the school-house, and later, in a
chapel which Mr. Wakefield built in
that locality. Subsequently the
movement drooped, but it received
new life when dissensions sprang up
in the Congregational church in 1850,
and that year Rev. Warren F. Evans
was located at Newport, as a pastor,
by the Methodist conference. The
interest increased, and the present
church edifice was erected and dedi-
cated December 25, 1851. The
society has been a flourishing one,
and the church membership is now

■■z '

b (f

Ln^*

Hon. William J. Forsaith.

NEWPORT.

about two hundred. The present
pastor is the Rev. H. D. Deetz.

In February, 1830, a Universalist
society was organized, which held
meetings in the court house and town

ville, but it gradually died out, and
the remnants were absorbed by the
Methodist society. In later years the
Second Adventists have had quite a
following, and have maintained wor-

v - __-^

3H gg

hall until 1837, when a brick chapel ship a considerable portion of the time,
was erected on Main street, in
which public worship was held
with more or less regularity un-
til about 1870. In 1S73 a Uni-
tarian society Avas organized and
occupied the Uni-

versalist chapel for r— -*- ■=-

some years, but
that, too. weakened
and gave up the
attempt to main-
tain services, the
marked' liberaliza-
tion of the Con-
gregational church
rendering-
it impracti-
cable if not
unnecessary.
This chapel v
was recently \ ' v -

■

' .• -

JJou'frs.

..- ■

. \Uk .

• 5

'•■ \~

~ i

■J-

■■■

sold and will be \
remodelled for \
business pur- \
poses. \

The Roman \
Catholics consti- U
tute a considerable
element of the pres-
ent population, and
in 1854 a Catholic mission was here
established. In November, 1883, a
handsome wooden church edifice,
located upon the hill in the north-
east part of the village, was com-
pleted and dedicated.

In the early part of the present cen-
tury there was a Free Will Baptist

>/K

tttf*«*> V-' - : -

C. M. Emerson.
E. H. Carr.

. /

Franklin P. R.-,,vell
George C Edes.

Col. Seth M. Richards.
Dr. Henry Tubbs.
Frank A. Rawson.

As stated in the outset, Newport
is a good agricultural as well as
manufacturing town, favored with
excellent soil and abundant water
power. Its farmers were particularly

organization of considerable strength prosperous in the early days, and
in town, with head-quarters at North- their success to-day compares favor-

NEWPORT.

Dexter Richards & Sens Woollen Mill;

ably with that of their fellow agricul-
turists throughout the state. A town
agricultural society has existed for

some years, and an annual fair
usually held. Sullivan Grange No.
8. Patrons of Husbandry, one of the

ufacturing business now in progress
in town, the leading establishments
being as follows :

Sugar River Mills, Dexter Rich-
ards & Sons, proprietors, employ ioo
hands, and manufacture 1,200,000
yards of flannel per annum.

Granite State Mills (at Guild),
Sollace & Fairbanks, proprietors,
employ $5 hands, and manufacture
375,000 yards of dress goods and
repellants annually.

Establishment of the Newport Im-
provement Co. (capital, $12,000),
building, 260 feet by 45, two stories
high; operated as a shoe manufac-

: ■ /

1 "'

£di& ;...: iiii'jjj ^ :.. iilliiiii \
Granite State Mills.

oldest in the state, is here located.

Since Benjamin Giles set up his
corn- and saw-mill on the main
branch of Sugar river, at what is
now Guild, in 176S. the water power
of the town, including the three
branches of the river and their tribu-
taries, has been utilized to consider-
able extent for manufacturing pur-
poses, and a simple reference to each
of the various enterprises in different
lines, would alone exceed the limits
prescribed for this sketch. Many
have "risen, flourished, and de-
cayed. " Several mills have been
burned and some of the sites are now
unoccupied, offering excellent oppor-
tunities for enterprising capitalists:
but there is a goodly amount of man-

Peerless Manufacturing Co.

ton' by Knipe Bros., of Haverhill,
Mass., who manufacture 200 cases of
gent's slippers per day, employing
175 hands.

Peeiless Manufacturing Co., C. M.
Emerson, president; A. E. Aldrich,
vice-president; F. W. Cutting, sec-

.1 £ji* ; - - « ...r; r ;

.<ffi2£k&u- ,-- '.-'.? . x

Shoe Factory.

NEWPORT,

0. J. Mooney.
Wm. F. R.chards.
James C. Grand/.

F. W. Cuttmg.

L. G. Ross.

Frank 0. Cnellis

Edwin M. Hur.tor

Sam D. Lewis.

■

■ r.

■ V

E.. N. Johnson.

George H.Woodoury.

T. L. Barker.

John J. Dudley.

C. H. Faubank?

George E. Lewi;

Frederick J. Lew

Carlton Hurd.

retary ; P. A. Johnson, treasurer; 150 to 200 hands. This company

E. N. Johnson, assistant treasurer; has a capital of $75,000, and operates

manufacturers of ladies' muslin un- a similar establishment at Barton,

derwear, wrappers, etc., employing Vt.

NEWPORT.

(1 ■> ' !

■"jr"f^

v*- r*«« L

Riverside Stock Farm, H. M. Ki

-
Manage

Quite an extensive business in the
manufacture of scythes has been car-
ried, on at Northville for more than
fifty years, being established in 1842
by Sylvanus Lamed, and continued
by Lamed *S: Sibley, Sibley & Dun-
ton, E. T. Sibley, and E. T. Sibley
& Son. Various other smaller estab-
lishments indifferent lines have been,
and many still are, operated in town.

Newport enjoys excellent banking
facilities. The old Sugar River Bank.
chartered by the state, was organ-
ized in January, 1853, with a capital
of ^50,000. Ralph Metcalf was the
fir>t president, and Paul J. Wheeler,
cashier. In 1S65 the bank was re-
organized as a national bank, with a
capital of Si 00,000. Frederick W.
Lewis, who had succeeded to the
office on the death of Mr. Wheeler in
the fall of 1S62, was continued as
cashier, holding the position until
his death, when he was succeeded
by his son, Sam. D. Lewis, the pres-
ent incumbent. Hon. Dexter Rich-
ards has been president since 1S75.
Newport Savings Bank, incorporated
July 1, 186S, is one of the most
flourishing in the state. Henry G.

Carleton is president, and
George E. Lewis, secre-
tary and treasurer. The
Citizens' National Bank,
organized in 1SS5, has a
capital of $50,000. C. M.
Emerson is president and
P. A. Johnson, cashier.
Sugar River Savings Bank.,
incorporated the past sea-
son, has its office in con-
nection with the Citizens'
National Bank. Carlton
Hurd is president, and
P. A. Johnson, treas-
urer.
The Concord & Claremont Rail-
road, which had been built as far as
Bradford in 1S53, and there stopped,
was carried through to Claremont in
1S71— '72 largely through the enter-
prise of the business men of Newport,
the first train running into the town
November 21, 1S71, and the first
train through to Claremont, Septem-
ber 16, 1S72. The completion of
this road was hailed with joy by the
people, gave new impetus to busi-
ness, and greatly promoted the pros-
perity of the town.

The inhabitants of Newport have
ever been a patriotic people. Twenty-
six names of Newport soldiers are
preserved on the Revolutionary rolls,
the last two Revolutionary pensioners
in New Hamp- r ...... ..,,._

shire. Joel Mc-
Gregor and Joel

Kelsey, having

*• -'.

"ur

been of that

-. • % \

n u m b e r. Sev-

* '^

enteen Newport

mem are record-

/-:'- 1

ed as serving in

V < J

the War of 18 12,

* «

.;._..

!..Jm-X^-i*&.

and 240 in the

Col. tra

_. Barton

NEWPORT.

. - e

War of the Re-
bellion, the first
of the latter to
volunteer having
been Ira MeE.
Barton, who re-
cruited the first
company, and
was co in m i s -
sioned its cap-
tain iu the First
New Hampshire regiment. Many
sons of Newport also enlisted in the
Union army in other localities, and
all did valiant service in their coun-
try's cause.

The town has also made honorable

Samuel H. Edes

Edes, David Hale, Josiah Forsaith,
Ralph Metcalf, Edmund Burke, Levi
W. Barton, Albert S. Wait, Sam-
uel H. Edes, W. H. II. Allen,
Shepard E. Bowers, and George R.
Brown, each practised many years
in town, all with fair success, and
some attaining distinction. Messrs.
Barton, Wait, and Brown are still
in practice, while Samuel H. Edes
abandoned the law and engaged in
general business many years ago.

Newport physicians have ranked
well with their medical brethren, and
some have been among the most
valued and influential citizens of the
town, as well as brightest lights in

contribution to the civil service of their profession.

phvsician was D:

The first settled
James Corbiu, a

the state and nation. Edmund Burke

served with distinction in congress for native of Dudley, Mass., who located

six years, and was four years commis- in town about 1790 and continued in

sioner of patents. Ralph Metcalf was practice until his death in 1S26. He

twice elected governor, and had pre-
viously been secretary of state. Jo-
siah Stevens was also secretary of
state for several years. Nathan Mud-
gett and Dexter Richards were mem-
bers of the executive council, and

was a. faithful and intelligent practi-
tioner and had also a love for agricul-
ture, purchasing after a time a large
farm above the Jenks place, on the
road to North vi lie, to which he re-
moved. A portion of this farm on the

F*.

Benjamin Giles, Uriah Wilcox, David other side of the river subsequently
Allen, Austin Corbin, Sr., Jeremiah became the home of his son, Austin,
D. Nettleton, Devi W. Bar-
ton, George H. Fairbanks,
and Shepard L. Bowers
were state senators.

The legal profession has
been well represented in
Newport during the great-
er part of the present cen-
tury. The first lawyer in
town was Caleb Ellis, who
was here previous to the

year 1S00, but subsequently | "•_._-
located in Claremont, and
was elected to congress \
wh ;i e there in practice. L ..._>■ -

Hubbard Newton, Alliasa A West Side Residence.

■

NEWPORT.

and the birthplace of his children,
including Austin, Jr., Daniel, and
James. Dr. John B. McGregor, a
native of the town and a student with
Dr. Corbin, was in successful practice
in Newport from 1S10 until his re-
moval to Rochester, N. Y., in 1S3S.
Dr. John L. Swett, a native of Clare-

pher, were educated to the same pro-
fession. The former succeeded his
father, and died suddenly, deeply
mourned, in 1S94. The latter is in
practice in California. The present
medical practitioners in Newport are
Dr. D. M. Currier, W. W. Darling
(homoeopathy), J. L. Cain, Amanda

* ^t $g

•

1 ■ « ■

I ■

■

•

Hon. James CorDin.

Hon. Austin Co'b'n.

Hon. Daniel Corbi

mont, and a graduate of Jefferson
Medical College, Philadelphia, lo-
cated here in July, 1S36. practised
for more than half a century with
great success, and still enjoys a green
old age in the town of his adoption.
He was president of the X. H. Med-
ical Society in 1S74, and has been a
member of the National Medical So-
ciety since 1S64. Another physician,
in long practice and of good repute,
was Dr. Mason Hatch, who located in
Newport in 1838, and remained until
his death in 1876 at the age of 86
years. Dr. Thomas Sanborn, in prac-
tice here from 1843 until his death in
1875, except during the time of his
absence as surgeon of the Sixteenth
N. H. regiment during the war, was
specially eminent as a surgeon. His
two sons, Thomas B. and Christo-

B. Kemptor (homoeopath}'), who have
been several years here located, and
two recent comers, Drs. A. S. Mar-
den and Henry L. Stickney.

The newspaper history of Newport
covers a period of seventy years.
Cyrus Barton removed his New-
Hampshire Spectator from Claremont
to this town in 1825. Edmund
Burke removed the New Hampshire
Argus from the same town, here, in
1834, and in 1835 the two were united
under his management and became a
strong and influential paper. In 1840
this paper passed into the hands of
Henry G. Carleton and Matthew
Harvey, two able, young, practical
printers, and continued under their
joint management until April, 1879,
a partnership record unparalleled in
journalism, since which time it has

NEWPORT.

been under the editorial management
of Hubbard A. Barton, with whom
George B. Wheeler has been asso-
ciated in the proprietorship for fifteen
years. The latter is a son of Col.
Edmund Wheeler, the historian of
the town. Mr. Barton, a native of
Croydon, is a painstaking and consci-
entious journalist. The Sullivan
Rcpublica.71 had an existence here of
about two years, from January, 1859,
till 1S61. It was printed by E. H.
Cheney, subsequently of the Lebanon
Free Press, and edited by the late
Hon. \V. H. H. Allen. In 1SS1 the
Republican Champion was started by
Fred W. Cheney, editor and proprie-
tor. In 18S8 Mr. Cheney sold the
paper to Edwin C. Hitchcock and
William H. Wright. Five years later

Xew England settlers, and their de-
scendants, as they moved out into
the wilderness, followed their exam-
ple. The cause of education has
been fostered in Newport from the
start, insuring a high order of intel-
ligence among the people. The first
public building was erected for school
and church purposes, and the earliest
appropriations included those for pro-
viding instruction for the young.

Early in its history the town was
divided into six school districts. In
1837 a rearrangement was made, and
nineteen districts organized.

In 1S19 an academy was estab-
lished. A building was erected for
its use, and it became for a time
a nourishing institution, with able
teachers and a large attendance.

"l^v>'

>,.

— ~~!JtJ

Dr. D. M. Currier. Ama-.da H. KennptO's, M. D. Dr. Wm. W. Darling.

Mr. Hitchcock purchased Wright's
interest, and has since been sole pro-
prietor, making the paper a bright
and enterprising sheet.

The church and the school were
planted side by side by the early

Subsequently the building was dis-
posed of. and the academy had ac-
commodations in the lower story of
the Baptist church edifice after that
building was remodelled. Later it
occupied the court-room. In 1874,

NEWPORT.

when the union school district was or-
ganized in the village, a high school
was established, and the academy
abandoned.

Under the present town system all
the schools are under control of a
committee or board of three persons.
The present members are Mrs. Geor-
gia Barnard Chase. P. A. Johnson.
and Orren C. Kibbey. Mrs. Chase,
a highly educated woman and expe-
rienced teacher, who has served sev-
eral years, is the present chairman of

gaged in mercantile business at the
old Cheney stand, and with whom
his sons, Dexter and Abiathar. were
subsequently associated. Later, en-
gaging in successful manufacturing,
Mr. Richards has amassed a fortune,
and, greatly to the advantage of the
community in which he has lived,
has expended a liberal portion thereof
in this and other public benefactions.
There are many thousand well se-
lected volumes on the shelves of this
library, for whose future maintenance

v • r

P. A. Johnson.

Mrs. Georgia B. Chase.

Orren C. Kibbey.

the board. Mr. F O. Chellis is now
the principal of the high school.

That education has been appre-
ciated thoroughly in Newport is evi-
denced by the fact that more than
one hundred sons of the town have
received the advantages of college or
university training, while many of
the daughters have also been liber-
ally educated.

The educational system of the town
has been magnificently supplemented
by the donation of a beautiful, costly,
and finely appointed free library
building by one of Newport's loyal
sons, Hon. Dexter Richards, eldest
son of Capt. Seth Richards, long en-

Mr. Richards has also liberally pro-
vided. The first librarian was Miss
Anne Parmelee, who continued about
five years from the opening of the
library in February, 1S89. Mrs.
N. S. Tandy is now the librarian
in charge. In the basement of the
library building antiquarian rooms
have been fitted up, where many
rare and curious articles of the old-
en time may now be seen, and to
which collection constant accessions
are made.

Newport was the birthplace and for
many years the home of that great
woman pioneer in the field of Amer-
can literature — Mrs. Sarah J. Hale,

NEWPORT.

(Sarah Josephs Buell), daughter of
Gordon Buell, prominent in the early
history of the town. Writing, first
for pastime and later as a means of
subsistence for herself and children,
when, after the death of her husband,
David Hale, a brilliant young law-
yer, other means proved inadequate,
it was here that she gave to the world
the first of the long series of literary
productions that rendered her name
immortal. Subsequently she removed
to Boston, and later to Philadelphia,
where she was for more than forty

a century. She still lives, a cheer-
ful, noble-spirited woman, with seven
children and thirty-six grandchildren,
one daughter being the wife of a
brother of President Dole.

Another brilliant daughter of New-
port is America's greatest female or-
ganist, Marion McGregor Christo-
pher, daughter of Dr. John B. Mc-
Gregor. Born with a soul full of
music, she was given by her father
the first piano ever brought into the
town. Her career as a musician has
been a notable one, culminating with

•W^lTi-'^i.. . . , .'- 1

years editor of Coder's Lady's Book,
the first successful ladies' magazine
in the country.

Another wholesome and prolific
contributor to the literature of her
time, Mary Dwinell Chellis-Lund,
lived and died in Newport, and is
held in fond remembrance by many
of its citizens at the present time.

Here, too, was born Malvina Cha-
pin Rowell, one of twelve children
of Daniel Chapin, a pioneer of the
town. She was one of the first alum-
nae of Mt. Holyoke Seminar}', grad-
uating in 1842 ; married Rev. George
Rowell the same year, and sailed with
him around Cape Horn for the Sand-
wich Islands where she did royal
work as a missionary for nearly half

twenty-five years' service as organist
at the Broadway Tabernacle, New
York city.

The list of notable men whom New-
port has produced and sent abroad
contains many distinguished names.
No name is better known to the
American people to-day than that of
Austin Corbin, the great New York
banker, railroad operator, and man
of affairs, whose recreations, even,
assume magnificent proportions, as
evidenced by his establishment of the
greatest private park in the country,
in the vicinity of his childhood home,
where he also maintains a country
seat of baronial magnitude. His
brothers, Daniel and James. — the
former extensively engaged in rail-

NEWPORT,

H. G. Carlet'on.

roading at Spok-
ane, Wash., and
the latter a
heavy real estate
operator in Sil-
ver City, New

~w Mexico, of which

he has been

I mayor, — are also

men of great

a b i 1 i t y and

The late Col. Mason

*»«»

Mattne.v Harvey.

Boston, Frank

achievement.
W. Tappan, of Brad-
ford, and the late
Hon. Samuel M.
Wheeler, of Dover,
two of the ablest
lawyers at the New
Hampshire bar,
were both natives
of Newport, as are
Hon. Win. J. For-
saith, judge of the
municipal court of
H. Carleton, of Minneapolis, and
many other lawyers of distinction
and success in different parts of the
country.

Hon. Edwin O. Stanard of St.
Louis, an extensive flour manufac-
turer and banker, formerly lieutenant-
governor of Missouri, representative
in congress and president of the cham-
ber of commerce, first saw the light
near the bast' of old Coit mountain in
this town ; and Frederick W. Duntou.
the Long Island bicycle railroad pro-
jector and operator, a nephew of the
Corbins, and a man of remarkable
push and ambition, is also a Newport
boy. Rev. Carlos Wilcox, an emi-
lnent clergyman and poet, some of
whose verses are among the choicest
gems in our literature, spent his early
years here, and here was reared the
Rev. Kendrick Metcalf, D. D., long

professor of Latin and Greek at Ho-
bart College and for a time president
of that institution. Another New-
port born college professor of the
present day is Herbert J. Barton,
professor of Latin and Greek in Illi-
nois University ; nor should we fail
to mention Miss Etta L. Miller, pro-
fessor of English literature in Smith
College.

But Newport's most eminent native
and one of her most loyal sons, in
whose record every citizen of the
town, as of the state, takes pride, is
that most distinguished living rep-
resentative of the American navy.
Rear- Admiral George E. Belknap.
Appointed a midshipman in the navy,
at the instance of Hon. Edmund
Burke in 1847, at the age of fifteen
years., -the record of his rank and
service is briefly summarized as fol-
lows: Commissioned lieutenant, 1S55 ;
. lieutenant -com-
mander, 1862:
commander, 1S66:
post-captain, 1S75 :
commodore, iSSv-
rear-admiral, 1 S89 :
retired for age,
! 1894. Partici-
pated in capture
of Barrier forts,
Canton river,
1856. Assisted in reenforeement of
Fort Ficken s,
April. 1 36 1. Ex-
ecutive officer
New Ironsides in

■

H. A Barton.

her fighting ser-
vice at Charles-
ton. Command-
ed monitor Can-
onicus at the bat-
tles and capture
of Fort Fisher ;

i j

Edwin C. H.tchcock.

NEWPORT.

.same vessel at fall of Charleston — re-
ceived and fired the last hostile shots
there. Commanded flagship Hart-
ford^ Asiatic station, 1867— '68. Led
attack against Indians on Formosa.
1867. Ran two lines of deep-sea
soundings across the north Pacific,
in command of Tuscarora, 1873— '74,
inventing some of the apparatus for
the work. Landed forces from Y)/s-
caroa and F^ortsmouth at Honolulu,
and quelled the riot there, February,
1874. Commandant navy yard, Pen-
sacola, iS76-'8i. Commanded cor-
vette Alaska, Pacific station, iSSi-'$3.
Navy yard, Norfolk, and superintend-
ent naval observatory, Washington,
i8S3-'S6. Commandant navy yard,
Mare Island, Cal., 1886-89. Com-
mander-in-chief Asiatic squadron,
iSSq-'o^. President board of inspec-
tion, iS92-'94. Retired for age, 1894.
Total service afloat, in twenty ships,
twenty-four years
and six months ;
shore duty, eigh-
teen years ; un-
employed, four
years and nine
months. In 1895
the honorary de-
gree of LL. D.
was conferred

... . Acia^-ar Ricnardv

upon A dmiral

Belknap by Dartmouth College.

The fraternal

L. PLtr

social, and be-
nevolent organ-
izations are well
represented i 11
Newport, the
Masonic order
having been es-
pecially promi-
nent for many
vears. Corinth-

ian Lodge No.
2S, F. and A. M.,
was formed and
opened here, in
"Richards' hall,"
June 21, 18 1 6,
under a dispen-
sation from the
grand master to
Arnold Ellis,
Hubbard New-
ton, and others.

/m m$?

- .

-\-

F. W. Dunton.

4 \-

The first regular
communication
of the lodge was
held July 2, fol-
lowing, when
officers were duly
elected and in-
stalled, with
Arnold Kllis as
worshipful mas-
ter, and Nathan-
iel Wheeler, Jr.,
the first candidate, was proposed for
admission. The lodge grew and pros-
pered until the time of the Morgan
excitement, but surrendered its char-

's/

-J

"rank H. Carleton.

ter 111 18

the last master beius

B. B. French. In 1S48 Mount Ver-
non Lodge No. 15, which had been
established in the town of Washing-
ton in 1S02, removed its location to
Newport, its first communication here
having been held July 10 of the first
named year. This Lodge has had a
flourishing career since its removal to
Newport, its membership embracing
many of the most prominent citizens.
Ins present officers are George Dodge,
W. M. ; T. L. Barker, S. W. ; F. O.
Chellis, J. W. ; A. L. Paul, S. D. ;
E. A. Paul, J. D. ; F. A. Rawson.
treasurer; W. H. Nourse, secretary;
A. V. Hitchcock, chaplain : F.J. Lati-
mer, marshal ; C. H. Dunbar, George
P^. Lewis, stewards ; C. H. Little, tyler-

NEWPORT.

I -■■ i V

... :,M

ment No. 27, I. O. O. P.,

instituted March 30, r8So,
with 12 charter members,
12 candidates accepted and
instructed, and Frank A.
Rawson, chief patriarch,
has now about fifty mem-
bers, Charles H. Fairbanks
being chief patriarch.

Hopeful Rebekah Lodge
No. 31, I. O. O. F., insti-
tuted February 23, 1887,
with 84 members, has now
135, with May E. Angell,
noble grand. This lodge
is especially active and has
Chapter of the Tabernacle No. 19, done much for the advancement of
Royal Arch Masons, was instituted Odd Fellowship in the town,
here July 15, 1S72, the first con- Newport Lodge No. 43, Knights

vocation being held at the ofhce of of Pythias, was instituted May 24,

Residence of S. D. Lewi

Albert S. Wait, who was the first
presiding officer or most excellent
high priest, and has been succeed-
ed by George C. Hdes, D. George
Chadwick, A. I). Howard. Daniel P.

1892, with 41 charter members, H.
H. Flanders, C. C. It has now
about eighty members, E. N. John-
son, C. C.

Deer Park Colony No. 146, United

Quimby, Abiathar Richards, Frank Order of Pilgrim Fathers, organized
A. Rawson, Frank J. Latimer, David December 8, 1892, with 35 charter
M. Currier, Charles M. Greenough, members, Harvey F. Deming, gov-
and Hubbard A. Barton, the lat- ernor, has now 55 members, Edmund
ter being the present incumbent. B. Cutting, governor.

Odd Fellowship estab-
lished its first tangible r zgxg > :^Sp«HK?^^fi
abode in this town May | - : ! "##*
25, 1874, when Sugar E
River Lodge No. 55 was r
instituted with five char- £-.•",
ter members, and 16 can-
didates were instructed in
the work, Ahira Barney,
noble grand. The organ-
ization has now 126 mem-
bers and $8,000 in in-
vested funds. John W.
Johnson is the present
noble grand.

^tOliy BrOOk Encamp- Rtside-ce of the late Dr Sanborn.

.2.5^"

- .-IJ. " -i ~M

NEWPORT.

-7 '-'-£""

Miss M. Kidder. Etta L. Miller. Mattie M. Chellis.
Mrs. N. S. Tandy. Mrs. Ellen E. Kimball. Mrs. T. L. Barker. Anne Parmelee

Newport Commanders- . United
Order of the Golden Cross, instituted
December 29, 1893, with 20 charter
members, Dr. D. M. Currier, N. C.
has already reached a membership of
about seventy-five, and is in a very
flourishing condition, with Mary A.
Chase, N. C, and L. R. Bascom,
V. N. C.

Fred Smyth Post No. 10, Depart-
ment of New Hampshire, G. A. R.,
was instituted April 2, 1S6S, with 20
charter members. John E. Cooper
was the first commander. His suc-
cessors have been R. M. J. Has-
tings, Charles H. Little, William H.
Perry, Ransom Huntoon, Charles A.
Puffer, E. M. Kempton, William W.
Hall, Albert L. Hall, Simon A. Ten-
ney, A. V. Hitchcock, B. R. Allen,

James C. G randy, Frank J. Latimer,
Martin L. Whittier, Clarence F.
Pike, Charles E. Stubbs, Nathan S.
Tandy, and Frank Carpenter, the
latter being the present commander.
The membership of the post is now
76.

Fred Smyth Relief Corps No. 7
was organized May 12, 18S2, with 23
charter members, and Mrs. Mary A.
Cooper, president. Mrs. Ida M.
Barker is now president, and the
corps is in a flourishing condition.

The Newport Woman's Christian
Temperance Union was organized in
May, 18S6, with 23 ' members, and
has labored earnestly to promote the
cause of temperance in the town. Its
president is Miss M. Kidder ; corre-
sponding secretary, Mrs. M. M. Mc-

NEWPORT.

Cann ; recording secretary, Mrs. L. services of the boys in attendance
W. Barton. Miss Kidder is among who set up the pins. The names of
the most prominent workers in the the members are Mrs. A. C. Bradley,

organization in the state, and is the
present state superintendent of jail
and reformatory work.

The Penawan club is a social or-
ganization of gentlemen, with up-
wards of 40 members, having pleas-
ant and finely appointed rooms in the
new De Wolfe building. John Me-
Crillis is president ; Col. S. M. Rich-
ards, vice-president : Sam D. Lewis.
treasurer: and F. Wallace Reed, sec-
retary. Social entertainments are
holden several times during the sea-
son to which the ladies are invited.

The " new woman " has found her
way to Newport, and in the spring of
1894 the Ladies' Bowling club was
organized. This club, which has 15
members, the president being the
only officer, meets weekly, on Thurs-
day afternoon, at the " Country
Club" house, located on spacious
grounds at the north end, and owned
by a syndicate of gentlemen, who
"rant them free use of the same, aside

Mrs. S. M. Richards, Mrs. S. D.
Lewis, Miss Georgia C. Wilcox, Mrs.
H. A. Barton, Miss Anne Parmelee,

" Country Club."

Mrs. A. L. Hall, Mrs. John McCril-
lis. Miss Ella Robinson, Mrs. A. S.
Chase, Miss Kathreen Sanborn, Mrs.
F. H. Lovell, Miss M. E. Partridge,
Mrs. G. PI. Woodbury, Mrs. A. S.
Wait. The first president was Mrs.
A. C. Bradley, who was succeeded
by Mrs. S. M. Richards, and she in
turn by Mrs. S. D. Lewis, the pres-
ent Incumbent.

A more orderly, law-abiding, in-
telligent, and prosperous community

from the price of the ticket for each than that constituted by the people
.string bowled, which pays for the of Xewport is rarely, if ever, found.

A more beautiful or pleas-

lfO_|ijH <

• ..-.

Residence of John Gunnison.

antly located village can-
not be seen in New Plamp-
shire. The village streets
are well kept, and the high-
ways throughout the town
in superior condition.

A first -class system of
water works has been es-
tablished, the source of
supply being Gilman pond
in Unity, whose water is
remarkably pure and clear.
With extensive and power-
ful hydrant service, sup-
plemented by a steam fire

NEWPORT.

■

■engine, the protection
against loss from fire is of
the most ample character,
while it is generally con-
ceded that the village is
one of the best lighted in
New England. The New-
port Electric Light Com-
pairy, S. M. Richards, pres-
ident, YV. F. Richards,
treasurer, and Myron \V.
T e 11 n e y, superintendent,
established in 1S92, has
a plant with a capacity
-of forty-five arc and two
thousand incandescent
lights, and the perpetrators of " deeds
of darkness'' necessarily seek other
localities in which to ply their voca-
tion.

With its beautiful meadows, green
hillsides, delightful forests, and pleas-
ant drives — six miles to Lake Sun-
apee, an equal distance to Corbin's
park, in whose midst sits grand old
Croydon mountain, the highest eleva-
tion in Sullivan county, four miles to
Unity springs, and ten, by easy ride,
to the beautiful sister village of Clare-
mont, — no place presents greater at-
tractions than Newport to the sum-
mer visitor, as none offers stronger
inducements for the busy capitalist
or the man of leisure, seeking profit-
able investment for his monev or a

• - - -.' ■:'

£-■• f~y ,■ - -J- >■ ■■ - - ■ •

Ladies' Bov

ig Club.

delightful, permanent abiding place
for himself and family.

Newport is, indeed, and has long
been, a model New England town.
Her record is a proud one in the his-
tory of the state and nation. Her
sons have been loyal, industrious,
progressive, patriotic ; her daugh-
ters, pure, refined, intelligent — de-
voted wives, noble mothers, true
women. Her contributions to every
field of noble endeavor and grand
achievement, to every phase of
worthy character, have been notable
and abundant. That her future may
fulfil the prophecy of the past and the
promise of the present, may well be
the fondest hope of all her children,
at home or abroad.

[The writer, in the preparation cf this article, has made free use of Wheeler's "History of Newport" and
of the Newport article in the " History of Cheshire and Sullivan Counties." He would also acknowledge his
• 'Miration for material assistance to Editors Barton, of the Argy.s and Spectator, and Hitchcock, of the Repub-
Ucun Champion, Col. S. M. Richards, Col. Edmund Wheeler, George R. Brown, A. L. Hall, L. G. Ross, and other
citizens of the town. He only regrets that the publishers' space limit, which has been extended far beyond the
average for articles of this description, precludes, not simply indulgence in rhetorical embellishment and anec-
dotal illustration, but the use of a vast amount of interesting facts, historical, biographical, and descriptive, left
in his possession ; while the most that he can hope is that what he has been able to present, in matter and man-
ner, may not be without interest to natives and resident of the dear old town, wherein was his birthplace, how-
ever it may be regarded by the general reader.]

3ix

THE AMERICAN AND ENGLISH SAMBORNES,

WITH A NOTICE OF REV. STEPHEN BACHILER.

[concluded.]

By J 'ictor Channing Sanborn .

! pJ S

(dated April 20,
follows :

X the Probate Reg-
istry at Wells are
filed the wills of
John vS a 111 bo rue
(dated February
26, 1 571) and Dor-
othy, his widow

1572), which are as

Will of John Samborne of Tvmsborow,
Esq.

Body to be buried in my parish church
chancel at Tvmsborow. To Dorothy, my
wife, the use of five rooms in my manor-
house, with wheat, barley, etc.. and the
keep of seven kine. To John Samborne,
my son, and heir, a chayne of gold, value
^20, which I will to remain to my Godson.
Barnabas, and so to remain to the heirs of
the name amd family. To son John also
my gelding, etc. To son Francis one cow.
To daughter Gatonby one cow. To daugh-
ter Horsington one cow and one young
beast. To Swithin Samborne, my son. 10
pounds a year to be paid out of Balwoodes-
tine until said Swithin shall have the bene-
fice of the parsonage of Timsbury, also to
have one cow. To daughter Baber one cow
to remain to John Baber my godson. To
daughter Martha 120 pounds and one cow.
To servant, Wm. Porter, 4 sheep. To my
cousin, James Samborne, a yearling beast.
To Joan Hall, my servant, an ewe sheep
and a lamb. To Joan Sideham, my servant,
one sheep. To John, the son of my brother
Nicholas Samborne. the re\ersion of a cot-
tage in Tvmsborow, provided he shall use
himself honestly towards my wife and heirs.

Wife Dorothy and son in law Anthony Gat-
tonby, Executors: Son John to be overseer.

Will (nuncupative) of Dorothy Samborne,
Widow.

Body to be buried in Tymsborow church,
as nigh as possible to the body of John Sam-
borne, Esq.. her late husband. To Son
Gattonby one cow, and to his wife another,
and to her daughter Priscilla one cow. To
daughter Martha Samborne one cow. To
Mr. James Samborne one cow. To Mr.
Francis Samborne's child Dorothy, one cow.
To Mr. Horsington's wife one cow. Resi-
due to Son in Law, Anthony Gattonby, sole
Ex'r. Witnesses, Anne Gattonby (als. Sam-
borne) and Robt. Panes of Beiston.

In Volume 1 of the English li Gen-
ealogist " is a pedigree of Samborne,
reprinted with additions from the
" \ isitation of London in 16S7." In
this pedigree are given the dates of
the births of the children of this John
Samborne (said to be "taken from an
old book in the possession of Wm.
Samborne, who hath subscribed this
descent " ) as follows :

11. i. John, b. May 31, 1528.

ii. Nicholas, b. June 1, 1529, probably
died young.

12. iii. Anne, b. Oct. 25, 1533, m. Rev. Anthony

Gattonby.
iv. Jane, b. Oct. 15, 1540, in. Mr. Horsing-
ton.

13. v. Francis, b. March, 1543.

14. vi. Richaro, b. May 8, 1544.

15. vii. Swithin, youngest son.

And the'will above given also shows:

16. viii. Martha.

ix. m. Mr. Baber.

THE AMERICAN AND ENGLISH SAMBORNES.

St. Andrew's Church, Sonnlng, Berks. The B'J-'al-pLace of Henry and Thomas Samborne.

8. Nicholas 8 (5) Samborne: in 1506
inherited from his father land in Rod-
bourne Cheney, Wilts. We have no
further record of him except that his
brother John in his will dated 1577
speaks of "John Samborne, son of my
brother Nicholas."* John speaks a'^o of
his •• Cousin James Samborne." Cousin
in those days denoted nephew, — so 1
assume James also to have been a son
of Nicholas. James (19) in his will
mentions "brother Edward." So we
have the following children of Nicholas :

John.

ii.

James.

iii.

Edward

9. Thomas* (6) Samborne, Esqre., of Son-
ning, in Berks, and Oxon. A rich
squire and landowner: like his father
was a lessee of the Bishop's lands.
Had several disputes with his under-
tenants {Memorials of Sowning) . Reg-
istered his pedigree in the HerakFs
Visitation of Berks. 1566. That Vis-
itation states that he married four
times. From his will we know of a
fifth wife.

The will of Thomas Samborne, filed
12 Watson P. C. C, dated April 21,
15&4. is as follows :

Body to be buried in Church of St.

Andrew at Sonning, as near as possible
to tribe body of my father Henry Samborne.
To Oemence, my wife, 100 marks &c. To
Mary Chandeler, dau. of my brother Ed-
mund, 33 s. 8 d. To Elizabeth & Mar-
garet! Stampe, wife's daughters, gold rings.
To Thomas Garnett, eldest son of my
daughter Frances £6. 13 s. 4 d.. to be used
towards his education. To Richard Gar-
nett, second son of dau. Frances, one bul-
lock.. Residue to Lawrence & Richard
Samborne, my sons, and Katherine Sam-
borne my daughter, joint exrs. Richard
Gannett, gent., my son-in-law, and Henry
Samborne my son. Supervisors.

Will of Clemence Samborne, widow,
of Wallingford, Berks., filed in Berks,
wills at Somerset House, and dated
June 5, 16 1 8, is as follows :

To Richard Samborne my daughter's
sonrae, 20 s. &c. To John Samborne his
brot'feer 50 s. To Anne Samborne, their
sister. 20 s. To Elizabeth Samborne, their
sisteir ^10. &c. To son Thomas Stampe,
goods &c. To his eldest son John Stampe.
To his daughter Frances Stampe my first
wedding-ring. To all his other children.
Residue to Richard & John Samborne afore-
said, joint exrs. Overseers, my son-in-law
Henry Samborne & his son Sir Henry Sam-
boroe, Kt.

THE AMERICAN AND ENGLISH SAMBORNES.

Thomas Samborne married, first,
Margaret Yetinour, and had

20. i. Henry, born about 1540.

ii. Grace, m. Henry Peckham of Surrey,
iii. FRANCES, m. Rich. Garnett, and had

(I) Thomas, (II) Richard.
iv. Jean, died young.

Second, he married Jane, daughter
of Lawrence Stonghton of Stoughton
Hall, Surrey, and had

v. Lawrence, m. Mary, widow of Richard
Sands, and had (I) Margaret, (II)
Jane, d. about 1617.

Third, he married Joan, widow of
Hugh Beke of Reading, and daugh-
ter of Henry Polstede of Albury in
Surrey, and had

vi. Thomas, died young.

21. vii. Richard.
viii. IvATHERINE.

ix. Walter, died young.

Fourth^ he married Blanche Bur-
dett, and had no issue.

Fifth (not given in Visitation), he
married Clemence, widow of Richard
Stampe of Cholsey, and daughter of
Roger Harbord of Sufton, Co. Here-
ford. No issue.

10. Edmund 6 (6) Samborne, of the parish
of St. Giles's, Reading. Married Mar-
garet . Their wills are riled in

Berks, wills at Somerset House and
mention child, —

Mary, m. John Chandler, and had (I)
Clemence, (II) John.

11. John* (7) Samborne, Esqre., of Tims-
bury, Somt. Born May 31, 1528.
Married Bridget Willoughby, of the
Willoughbys of Turner's Puddle, Dor-
set., a younger branch of the Lords
Willoughby d'Eresby. She died Feb.
14, 1574. Apparently he married again,
Dorothy .

Will of John Samborne, Esq., of
Timsbury, filed 40 Carew P. C. C,
and dated April 11, 1575, is as fol-
lows :

The chain of gold, disposed of by my
father John Samborne's will, shall succeed

to our heirs. To my four younger sons,
Israel, Toby, Samuel, & Peter, during their
lives, out of the rents of Bury Blunsden,
£40 by the year. To my daughters Mary,
Margery & Elizabeth,, ^500. to be raised
out of the rents of my manors of Maiden
Newton & Up Sydling. To Mary my
daughter, her mother's wedding-ring. To
my brother Richard Samborne the" rever-
sion of a tenement in Maiden Newton. To
my brother Swithin Samborne, the presenta-
tion to the next avoidance after Richard
Shepforde, parson of Tymesborow. My
said brothers to have the use and charge
of the said legacies during my children's
non-age. Son Barnabas, Exr : Edw. Baber,
Esqre, and John Slocum, Clerk, B. D.,
Overseers.

Dec. 11, 1576, a commission issued
to Richard and Swithin Samborne,
Chas. Smith, Esq., and Anthony
Gattonby, clerk, to administer the
goods of the late John Samborne
during the minority of Barnaby Sam-
borne, Executor Dorothy Samborne,
relict of the deceased, renouncing:.

Children of John Samborne, born at
Timsburv :

22. i. Barnaby, b. 1561.

ii. Israel, bapt. Aug. 9, 1562.

iii. Toby, bapt. Dec. 9, 1563.

iv. Susan, bapt. May 6, 1565, died young.

v. Samuel, bapt. Nov. 3, 1566, d. unm. at

Bath, 1 614.

vi. Mary, bapt. Sept. 29, 1567.

23. vii. Peter, bapt. Sept. 29, 1569.
viii. Margaret, bapt. Sept. 9, 1.57 1.
ix. Elizabeth.

12. Anne 6 (7) Samborne, born Oct. 25,

1533. Married Anthony Gattonby,
Rector of Goodworth Clatford, Hants.

The parish registers of Goodworth
Clatford, which Rev. Mr. Iremonger,
the present rector, kindly showed me,
date back to 1528. In them I found
the death of Rev. Anthony Gattonby
recorded. Goodworth Clatford, it
will be remembered, is the next
parish to Wherwell, where Stephen
Bachiler was rector at this same
time.

13. Francis 6 (7) Samborne, Esq., born
in March, 1543, buried at Maiden New-

THE AMERICAN AND ENGLISH SAMBORNES.

ton, Dorset. July 5 th, 1590. His
father leased to him in 1568 for ioo
years the manor of .Maiden Newton.

Francis Samborne m. Margaret ,

and lived at Maiden Newton. Chil-
dren :

i. Dorothy, bapt. at Tinisbury, Aug. 26,

157 1.

.24. ii. Richard, bapt. at Maiden Newton,

Jan. 9. 1575.
2;. hi. Francis.
26. iv. John.

v. Priscilla, m. Augustin Mervyn of

Host Knoyle, Wilts,
vi. Magdalen, m. May 21, 1610, Nicholas
Polden (V. No. 27).

14. Richard 6 (7) Samborne, Esq., born
May 8, 1544, lived at Wellsleigh in
Parish of Wells, Somt. Married Anne,
daughter of George Milborne (a sister
of Rev. Swithin Samborne's wife), and
was buried at S. Cuthbert's Church,
Wells, May 25, 1609. His will dated
April 29th, 1609, filed at Wells,
leaves all to wife, she to be sole execu-
tor. Win. Hall of Hornblotten to be
Overseer. Witnesses, John Samborne,
Grace Samborne, and Rnbt. Lambert.
Children :

Dorothy, bapt. at Timsbury, April 27,

157S.
Richard, bapt. at Timsbury, Sept. 21,

1579-

Grace, bapt. at Tim^urv, March 26,

1 581.

Alexander, bapt. at Timsbury, July
22, 1582; buried at St. Cuthbert'^,
Wells, July 23, 1 61 4.

15. Rev. Swithin 6 (7) Samborne, B. A.
of Magdalen College. Oxford, 1570;
M. A., 1573. Married Martha, daugh-
ter ot George Milborne, whose pedi-
gree is recorded in "Somt. Visitation
of 1 623." Swithin Samborne was pre-
sented to the living of Timsbury in
1579; his will dated Aug. 8th, 1623,
describing him as clerk of Emborow,
Somt., is filed at Wells as follows :
To be buried in Chancel of Eniborow
Church. To poor of Tymsborow, To Son
Cornelius, a great chest ecc. To sons Ivell,
Joseph, Obediah, Isaac and Ezra. Wife
Martha. Daughter Jenny Evans, her chil-
dren Rebecca, John and Cornelius. Daugh-
ter Phebe Villis, her children Sarah and
Phebe. Nathaniel and Martha children of
John Evans. Brother in law, Thomas Mil-
bonne.

Children of Rev. Swithin Samborne :

a. Apollos, bapt. at Timsbury, March 7,

15S6; buried May 7, 15S6.
ai. Shuha, bapt. at Timsbury, Dec. 25,

'5 S 9-
:iii. Cornelius, bapt. at Timsbury, Nov.
21, 1 591 ; apparently moved to Dor-
set, and died in 1652.
iv. John, bapt. at Timsbury, Sept. 16,
1593; buried June 1, 1595.
27.. 7/. Ezra, bapt. at Timsbury, Jan. 1, 1599.
2S. i-i. Joseph
29. T/ii. Obediah.
win. Isaac.

ix. Jane, m. John Evans, and had issue —
Rebecca, John, Cornelius.

si. Phebe, m. Villis, and had issue —

Sarah and Phebe.

\ , ■

< f* A- ] ft. <V

i i

g ■

■

TTT '

•

m -

Church at Goodwo--h Cla'fo-rJ, Hants. Wne'e Rev, Anthony Gattonby, Husband of Anne Samborne, was Rector.

THE AMERICAN AND ENGLISH SAMBORNES.

1 6. Martha 6 (7) Samborne. Lived in
Anriover, Hants. In her will dated
April 1st, 1572 (riled JI Peter P. C. C.},
she desires to be buried in church earth
of Andover, and leaves a cow to Susan
Horsington, her god-daughter. Resi-
due to Anne Gattonby, sole executor.
Thomas Child of Andover, Overseer.
Witnesses, Mrs. Margaret Bridge,
widow, Thomas Pattenden and Richard
North of Andover.

17. John 6 (8) Samborne, mentioned in
his Uncle John's will, and given a cot-
tage at Timsbury. I" the Timsbury
Register is this entry, — "John Sam-
borne, son of John Samborne, bapt.
Octo. 14th, 1 574.* 1 At Basingstoke
Hants we rind in 1641 a John Sam-
borne chosen Sergeant of the Mace.

18. Rev. James 6 (S) Samborne. We sur-
mise that he was a son of Nicholas
because he is called "Cousin" by his
uncle, John, a term then used to denote
nephew. James was a clergyman of
Hampshire, probably not beneficed, —
at least no record of his presentation
to a living is to be found. From Wey-
hill Register we know he lived there
(just outside of Andover, and very near
Wherwell and Clatford), in 1572.

Rev. James Samborne's will, dated
May iS, 1603, is filed at Winchester,
and is the only Samborne will filed
there. It is as follows :

Will of James Samborne oi Andover in
Co. of Southt. Clarke. Body to be buried
in chancel of Andover parish church. All
my books to son James Samborne. All
my wearing apparel to brother Edward Sam-
borne, except my best Gowne. Residue to
wife Eleanor and daughter Abigail, joint
Ex'rs. Overseers: Anthony Gattonby of
Clatford, and Rowland Hopgood of Ando-
ver. Witnesses: Edward Samborne and
John Tanner.

His inventory taken Aug. 25, 1603,
by Anthony Gattonby, Richard Ven-
ables, Rowland Hopgood, and Win.
Barton of Andover, is very interest-
ing (amount, £91 8s.), describing
all the goods in detail, covering eight
pages, and mentioning among other
things — all the books (£5), a writ-

ing-desk (4d.), wearing apparel (£5
19s.).

From this will it will be seen that
the only surviving children of Rev.
James Samborne were Abigail and
James. These are the only ones of
whom we have any record.

L Abigail, bapt. at Weyhill, Hants, Apr.

;o. rr

'j' * 3/ —
James, b. 1576 (Oxford Register.)

19. Edward 6 (8) Samborne. We only
know of him through his brother
Karnes's will. He may have been the
H&ther of the Samborne who married
Ainne Bachiler.

20. EEenry 7 (9) Sambourxe, Esq. ; lived
sit Sonning. Berks., and later became
kord of the Manor of Moulsford, Berks.,
ai pretty village on the Thames. The
cold manor house is still standing. In
Moulsford church and Streatley church
sare tablets commemorating the Sam-
Ibourne charities. Several items about
E-Ienry Sambourne occur in the Close
JRolls. He married Anne, daughter of
Wm. Barker of Sonning. The Barkers
were for three hundred years the prin-
cipal family in Sonning, and the owners
oof Holme Park, a fine estate there.
Henry Sambourne died intestate. In
t.'he Archdeaconry of Berks, dated
November 17th, 1631, is filed a com-
rmission authorizing Henry Sambourne,
son of Henry Sambourne, Esq., for-
nnerly of Moulsford, to make inventory
cU goods. Children:

51. i. Henry.

ii. Katharine, m. Thos. Tipping of

Woolley, Berks.
iiii. Mary, m. Wm. Howe of So. Okenden,

Essex.
iv.:. Anne, m. Thos. Holmes of berks.

21. Richard 7 (9) Samborne. Said in
tr.he Herald's Visitation to have lived
sat "Stokes Farm near Wokingham,"
&>ut this I think is a mistake for Stoke
if arm, near Wallingford. North and
South Stoke lie together in Oxfordshire
mear Wallingford and just across the
'/Thames from Moulsford. Married
Elizabeth, daughter of Richard Stampe
caf Cholsey, Berks., and Clemence,
(daughter of Roger Harbord of Sufton,
Co. Hereford. Clemence afterwards
raaarried Thomas Samborne of Sonning,

THE AMERICAN AND ENGLISH SAMBORNES.

■ 4

Upper Clatford (Hants) Church, Where James and I homas Samborne v\ere Rectors 1610-1662.

Berks., father of Richard above, as his
fifth wife. The Berks. Visitation of
1566 traces the Stampe pedigree for
five generations. Children :

32. i. Richard, b. 15S9.

33. ii John.

iii. Anne, bapt. at Reading in 1597.
iv. Elizabeth.

22. Sir Barnaby 7 (i i) Samborne, Knight,
of Timsbury, Somt. Born in 1561.
Matriculated at Magdalen College,
Oxford, in 1577.

Sir Barnaby was the most promi-
nent of the Timsbury Sambornes.
He has a fine stone monument in
Timsbury church, representing him
in full armor, with his hands clasped
together. His epitaph (which was
bungled by the historian Collinson)
is worth inserting in full. It is
carved in a diamond-shaped piece
of marble.

Here lieth the body of sir Barnaby Sam-
borne, Knight, who lived all his days faith-
ful to his Prince, and in loving affection to
his country; being a zelous professor of the
Trew Religion, and continued Constantly
in the same : of whose worth & Vertew,
much might be spoken But he resting
from his labours His good works follow

him : who, when he had lived his years in
hapie & peaceful manner, departed this life
A. D. 161 o. His body being here interred:
His soul waiteth for the Resurection to Glory.
Into Thy hands I commend my spirit for
Thou has redeemed me O Thou Lord of
Truth.

Sir Barnaby's nuncupative will,
dated April 7, 16 10, and filed 41
Wingfield P. C. C, leaves to his four
younger sons — Thomas, William,
Richard, and John — 400 marks apiece,
to be raised out of his farm called Peg-
linche and Woodberowe. Residue
to Dame Margaret Samborne, his
wife.

Lady Margaret Samborne' s will,
dated April Sth, 1626, and filed 62
Skynrier P. C. C, is as follows :

To son Thomas my wedding ring, the cup
that was Sir Thomas Throgmorton's (my
dear and loving father) &c. Son Thomas
to be Executor. Son William 200 pounds,
and inheritance in certain portions of Tims-
borow manor, which has been in vie to dis-
pose of since the death of my Juts band. Sir
Barnaby Samborne. To son Richard Sam-
borne 3C0 pounds, to be paid to my brother
Sir Wm. Throgmorton, my kinsman Thos.
Baynard, Esq., my friend Edw. Orange,

3 8 THE AMERICAN AXD ENGLISH SAMBORNES.

gent, to be bestowed in. an annuity or living London, goldsmith, of ^20 a vear, to
for the said Richard. Son John Samborne be raised out of the rents of Upper
^200 to be paid to him in six months after Sydlin-g, Dorset, to be paid at the now
he arrives at age of 21. In the mean time dwelling house (called the While Gray-
his brother Thomas to send him to a good hound) of Peter and Anne his wife, at
schooi and to Oxford. To my said trustees the east end of London Bridge,
the next advowson of the Church of Tims-
bury, to present the same to my son John if A copy of the Somerset Visitation
he enter the ministry. To my sister the of l6 ( with adcl i tions ) at the Brit .
Lady Dale, the ring which my Lord Con
waie*s sister sent me.

Sir Barnaby Samborne marrried
twice. Llis first wife was Cicelv,

ish Museum (liar. Mss.) gives the
children of Peter Samborne and his
wives' names. In addition the will
of his first father-in-law, Robert Has-

dauo-hter of Wm. Bassett, Esq., of ^ nU ,- T , , ( ■ , v ., c

& l sail ot London, farrier, proved April S,

Ulev, Co. Glouc, bv whom he had T /-^c ci 1 r> ^ r> c a ^ -i

- - 1606, iileci P. C L. Staiiord 25, leaves

h l, OHN : b \. I5 l SS . ; J: r . obablydiedvoung - "Peter Samborne, husband of my

daughter Anne, the lease of my dwell-

34. ii. Barnaby, b. 1590.

His second wife was Margaret

l e>'

*> ing house on London Bridge, which

Throgmorton, daughter of Sir Thorn- CQst me 2 . Q poiinds< T gave him 50

as Throgmorton of Tortworth, Glouc, pouIuLs at marriage . To his eldest

and aunt of one of the early govern- SQn Markley and his other children."

ors of Virginia. By her he had The wiU of Peter Samborne him .

35. Hi. Thomas, b. 1601. u dated j ul 26 6 and filed

36. iv. William, bapt. at Timsbury May 20, J

1604. 72 Wood, P. C. C. is as follows:

37. v. Richard, bapt. at Timsbury Sept. 30,

1605. Body to be buried in Church of St.
vi. BRIDGET, bapt. at Timsbury, May 21, Olave's. Southwark near the corpse of my

1607, and buried Aug. 7, 1007. ' i ate w jf e Anne. MV live children, Markley,

vn. John, bapt. at Timsbury Feb. 9, 160S; Elizabeth E1]en ' Ann and Benjamin,

buried ] )cc. 4, 1041. T . . ' . ' „ T , ,. -

Brother Samuel . Cousin John Hayman.

23. PETER' (ii) SAMBORNE. Born 1569, a Biother in law Simon Addams, father in law-
goldsmith in London. An indenture John Owens of Barnet. Mr. Bamford "a
dated Nov. I, 1594, covers a gift silenced minister"' Father in law Mr.
from Barnaby Samborne of Timsbury, Monger. Cousin John Heyman, Executor;
son of John, to Peter Samborne of John Owen ar.d Simon Addams, Overseers.

Upper Clatford Recto'/- ;n the older part of which Rev. James and Rev. Thomas Samborne lived, I6I0-IC62.

THE AMERICAN AND ENGLISH SAMBORNES

Peter Samborne married twice
By his first wife. Anne,
Robert Hassall, he had

daughter of

i. ELIZABETH, married (i) Miles Gray or
Craine; (2) Win. Aslett.

ii. ELLEN, married Mr. Russell of London.
Vintner.

iii. MarKLEY, eldest son and heir; no fur-
ther record.

His second wife was Mary, daugh-
ter of Monger ; by her he had

iv. Benjamin; no further record.

v. Mary, buried at Si Mary Magdalen,

Bermondsey, July 14, 1603.
vi. Anne.

Richard 7 (13) Samborne, born in
Maiden Newton. Dorset, 1575. Be-
came a merchant of Caen in Normandy,

and married Mary, daughter of

Rignouf of France. Several entries in
State Papers and indentures on Close
Rolls relate to his ventures.

His will, dated February 21, 1631,
proved in 1642, and filed 94 Campbell
P. C. C. is as follows:

Whereas, John Saintlow, now in London,
merchant, demised to me 2 out of three
parts of the farm of Peglinch and Wood-
berowe in Camerton and Wellowe, Somt.
and whereas Giles Green of Weymouth
in Dorset, and the said John Saintlow,
demised to me the other third part of
the aforesaid farm, which part lately de-
scended, or should have descended to Mark-
ley Samborne as a cousin and next heir of
Barnaby Samborne, deceased. Now, I give
the above to my brother in law. Nicholas
Polden of Puscandle, and my cousin John
Cole of Cullompton in Devon., upon trust
that they sell the same, and distribute the
proceeds equally amongst my four sons,
Michael, Richard, Thomas and John.

Children of Richard Samborne :

38. i. Anne, b. 1602.
ii. Margaret.

iii. MICHAEL, probably never married,
iv. Richard, married and had two daugh-
ters.

39. v. Thomas, married, but had no issue.
vi. John, married, but had no issue.

25. Francis (13) Samborne, a merchant
of London, said in *« Visitation of Lon-
don, 1687," to have been a goldsmith.
Married at St. Mary Magdalen, ber-

mondsey, in February, 1606, Margaret
blincoe, daughter of Nicholas Blincoe
of South wark. Children of Francis
Samborne :

i. Nicholas, b. i6ro; entered at Merchant
Tailors' School, 161S; drowned at 16.

40. ii. Francis.

41. iii William.

iv. Richard, died num. in London, 1643;
will, tiled in Com. Court of London,
mentions brother William.

26. John 7 (13) Samborne, said to have
been a merchant in France with his
brother Richard. He was born about
the same date as the father of the three
American Sambornes. In the "Herald
and Genealogist," Vol. 1, is the follow-
ing title of an old parchment pedigree
exhibited by Mr. John Gough Nichols
at the Heraldic Exhibition of the
Society of Antiquaries at Somerset
House, thirty years ago. (I have
searched for this pedigree, but cannot
find any trace of it.)

Genealogia, sive prosapia generosissimi viri ;
Jahannis Samborne, jam in partis transniarinis
existentis ; filii qitarii Francisci Samborne de
Maiden Nexoton in Com. Dorset gencrosi ; filii
seciifidi Johannis Sambonrne de 7'imsberie in
Com. Somt., — ex antiqua stirpe Sambournortim
in Sunning- in Com. Berks, oriundi

27. Ezra 7 (15) Samborne, of Stowey,
Somt. Yeoman, born 1599, apparently
had no children. His will riled at

Wells and dated May 4, 1666, leaves
his property to the children of his
brother Joseph.

28. Joseph 7 (15) Samborne, of Stowey
Somt., husbandman. From him was
descended a large family, whose wills are
filed at Wells. I have not attempted to
follow them farther than this generation.

Joseph Sainborne's will, dated June
26, 1665, and filed at Wells, men-
tion, s

Brothers in law John and Isaac Robbins
and their sister Prudence Robins, and father
Misaac Robbins. Wife Sarah. Children,
Richard, John, Deborah, Phebe, Sarah,
Ezra and Martha.

29. Obediah 7 (15) Samborne, of Farm-
borough, Somt. Nuncupative will dated
Nov. 8, 1667, gave all to the poor.

30. Rev. Jamf.s 7 (18) Samborne, born in
1576. Matriculated at Magdalen Col-

4°

THE AMERICAN AND ENGLISH SAMBORNES.

r^sS*

Magdalen College, Oxford. The College of Rev. Swithin, Rev. James, Rev. Thomas Samborne, etc.

lege, Oxford. Described as '-son of a
gentleman of Hants.'* Apparently had
some family influence near Andover
(perhaps at Thruxton, where his
cousins the Philpotts held the ancient
Lisle possessions;. Foster says James
Samborne was Rector of Grateley Hants
in 1604, and of Upper Clatford, Hants,
in 1 610. We know that he was pre-
sented to the living of Upper Clatford
by Arthur Swairte of Sarson. Hants
(next parish to Thruxton).

A long bill, filed in chancery pro-
ceedings June 15, 1664, is, in brief,
as follows :

Bill of Thomas Samborne, eldest son &
heir of Thomas Samborne, late of Up Clat-
ford Hants, Clarke, who was eldest son &
heir of James Samborne late of the same
parish. About 1610 one Arthur Swaine of
Sarson, Hants, was seized of the right of
presentation to p'sh. of Up Clatford, and
presented the said James Samborne to the
said Rectory, who was thereupon instituted
(Sic. Shortly after, Arthur Swaine died &
his son Edward sold all his rights to the said
James Samborne. About 1628 your orator's
father being then under 21 and a scholar of
St. Mary Magdalen Hall in the Univ. of
Oxford, the said James Samborne, being a
very intimate friend of Sir Thomas Jervois,
then of Herriard, Hants, did convey all his
interest in Up Clatford in trust to the said
Jervois & shortly after, died. Sir Thomas
Jervois instituted one Hook to the living,
but your orator's father corning of age, the
said Hook resigned, and vour orator's said

father, Thomas Samborne was presented to
the living (in 1632) when Sir Thos. Jervois
pretended that he had paid some debts of
your orator's grandfather & said he would
retain the title to the premises until the
debts were paid. But the late unhappy wars
breaking out, and your orator's father being
a person of eminent loyalty to the late glori-
ous mighty King Charles I; and the said
Jervois being a person of great authority in
the then pretended Parlyament, he procured
your orator's father to be sequestered for a
delinquent against the said parlyament (and
he was the very first minister that was
sequestered in that county or in the whole
kingdom;;, and so he continued during all
the time of the said trouble, until the late
happy restoration, when your orator's father
being legally restored to the premises died
about lS months ago. When he was so
sequestered, the said Jervois came to him,
confessed the deed to be a trust, & offered
that if your orator's father would assert the
interest of the then "godly & well affected
party" as then called, he would not only
restore iv'm to the rectory but would recon-
vey the -.'remises to him &c.

As sua answer, Thomas Jervois of
Herriard recited the indenture of 1637,
whereby Christian Samborne, widow
of James Samborne ; and Thomas
Samborae, Clerke, deed., son and
heir to the said James Samborne,
conveyed the said rectory, etc., for a
valuable consideration to Sir Thomas
Jervois.

THE AMERICAN AND ENGLISH SAMBORNES.

Sir Thomas Jervois, mentioned
here, was a prominent Puritan, a
member of the "Rump Parliament,' '
and a commander in the Civil War.
A close intimacy existed between
him and James Samborne, as can be
seen from several entries on the Close
Rolls, conveying property in trust to
James Samborne and Henry Sher-
field. Sherfield was a Wiltshire Re-
corder, who had strong Puritan ten-
dencies, and was tried for sacrilege
in breaking up a Papistical stained-
s:lass window in Salisbury. From
the intimacy between Rev. James
Samborne and these Puritans it may
be reasonably asserted that he was
himself of their way of thinking, and
this would bring him near in spirit
to that "notorious inconformist,"
Stephen Bachiler.

Upper Clatford is a charming vil-
lage on the banks of the Anton ; and
the church is an ideal country church,
embowered in trees, and so old that
its exact age is unknown. Parts of
the present delightful rectory are also
very old, and a beautiful avenue con-
nects it with the church.

The dates of Rev. James Sam-

borne' s children were very kindly
given me by Rev. Mr. Xoakes, the
present rector of Upper Clatford.
Children of Rev. James Samborne :

4--
43-

Thomas, b. 1606, probably at Grateley.

;. James, b. at Upper Clatford April 24,
1610.

ii. Dorothy, b. at Upper Clatford, Nov.
6, 161 1.

v. Lucy, b. at Upper Clatford, Dec. 18,
1613. Following and making part of
this entry is the addition, apparently
by the same hand at a later date,
" Lucy Jervois, b. Nov. 13, 1613.*'

r. Elizabeth, b. at Upper Clatford Sept.
14, 1616.

\-\. SviUL, b. at Upper Clatford April 10,
io'9.

Sir Hexry 8 (20) Samborne. Knight-
ed 160S. High Sheriff of Berks. 1616.
Lived at Moulsford, Berks. Married
Dorothy, daughter and heir of John
Stampe of Aston Thirrold, Berks.,
gent. Died in 1667.

Sir Henry was engaged in the
manufacture of saltpetre, and appar-
ently held crown contracts for the
manufacture. During the Civil War
he got into trouble with the Com-
monwealth part}*, and in 1646 nearly
had his estate confiscated {Cal. of
State Papers) . At his death he was
possessed of four manors — Moulsford,
Cholsey, Streatley, and Ashton Thir-
rold, Berks.

; m

SiVS

■

wM,

THE AMERICAN AND ENGLISH SAMBORNES.

Children of Sir Henry Samborne :

i. Henry, b. 161 r ; probably had no issue.
ii. WlUJL AM, died 1697; probably had no

issue,
iii. Anne, m. Hatton. and died before

1700, leaving son, \Ym. Hatton.
iv. Dorothy, died unmarried.
v. MARY, m. Jeremiah Hand, April 12,

1664. (Called '-an ill husband.")
vi. Martha, m. White, and lived at

Streatlev, Berks. A widow in 1700.

32-

33-

34-

Richard 8 (21) Samborne of Cholsey,
Berks., born 1589. Married Dorothy,
daughter of Richard Comyns of Cholsey.
Children :

i. Henry! b. 1622; m. Mary, daughter of

Tery, of Avington, Hants.

ii. Josf.ph.
iii. Benjamin.

John 8 (21) Samborne. We know
nothing of him. He must have been
born about the right date to have been
father of the three American Sam-
born es.

Barnaby 8 (22) Samborne of London,
merchant, born 1590. The eldest son
of Sir Barnaby, it is difficult to tell why
he left Timsbury. He is not mentioned
in his father's will, which, however,
leaves bequests to "My four younger
sons, Thomas, William, Richard and
John," thus showing that an elder son
was then living. Apparently never
married. In St Mary Aldermary
Register occurs this entry. " 1619,
July, died Barnaby Samborne, out of
Mr. Chamber's house."

His will, filed Parker 104 P. C. C,
is as follows :

All my lands in Camerton and Wellowe
and elsewhere in England to be sold within
one year, the proceeds to be divided to allow
To Richard Samborne now resident in Caen,
Normandy, 300 pounds, and to each of his
children 20 pounds. To George Chamber
my approved friend 300 pounds, to each of
his children 20 pounds. To my aunt Eliza-
beth Caroles in Zealand 70 pounds. To
Richard Stanfatte's children of Bristol. 20
pounds. To Kinswoman Margaret Lang-
ton, 100 pounds. To Kinsmen James
Samborne, John Hayman and George Bay-
nar( l £z° To John Gibbs, my tenant, and
James his son. Residue to Brothers
Willia)n, Richard and Joint George
Chambers Executor. James and Richard
Samborne, John Ha) man and George Bar-
nard, Overseers.

35. Thomas 8 (22) Samborne of Timsbury,
Somt., born 1601, married Amice,,
daughter and co-heir to Roger Maudley
of Nunnery. This was a great Somer-
setshire family. In Nunney Church are
some fine Samborne monuments of the
Stuart period.

His will, dated January 12, 1636,
filed 47 Gore P. C. C, mentions

My three younger children, Margaret,
Thomas and Anne. Manor of Nunney,
which I bought of John Jessop. Brother
Wm. Samborne Brother Richard Samborne,
Marie his wife and William their son.
Brother John Samborne.

The present Sambornes of Tims-
bury descend from Maudley Sam-
borne, eldest son of above Thomas.
Mr. S. S. P. Samborne's grandfather
married a coheiress of the Sambornes,
and assumed the name of Samborne.

36. William 8 (22) Samborne, Esq. of
Paulton, Somt. Born 1604. Matricu-
lated at Balliol College, Oxford, 1624.
det. 1625. Married Anne, widow of
Virgil Vaughan Esq., but had no issue.

His will, proved June 7, 1670, filed
Penn 85 P. C. C, is as follows :

To be buried in the Chancel of Tymsbury
Church, as near as possible to the Corpse of
Lady Margaret Samborne, my mother. To
wife Anne, £10. To poor of Tymsbury and
Paulton. To Abraham Bailey. Residue to
Nephew Maudley Samborne, sole executor.

37. Richard 8 (22) Samrorne, Esq., born

1605, married Marie Children

born at Timsbury :

William.

Elizabeth.

Mar if:.

Anne.

Martha.

Joanna.

38. Anne 8 (24) Samrorne. Bern 1602.
Married John Le Bas of Caen in Nor-
mandy, gent., son of John Le Bas.
From this marriage was descended a
large and influential family, the earlier
generations of which are given in
44 Genealogist*' Vol. 1, and »N. E.
Register" 1 for July, 1885.

THE AMERICAN AND ENGLISH SAMBORNES.

39-

Thomas s (24) Samborne of Caen in
France and later of London. He and
his brother John were wealth} mer-
chants. Royalists, who aided in the
escape of Charles II. and in his restora-
tion in 1660. In 1 66 1. Thomas and
John Samborne presented a memorial
for recompense for services in this con-
nection. (See State Papers, 1661.)

The will of Thomas Samborne,
Esq., of Westminster (filed 92 King

40. Francis 8 (25) SamborKE of Westham
in Essex, married Mary Goodfellovv.
Children :

i. Samuel, b. 1640; died young.

ii. Mary, b. Nov. 24, 1641"; d. unmarried.

iii. William, b. Feb. 4, 1644; m. Eliza-

beth, daughter of Richard Brooke of

Derby, and had issue.

41. William 8 (25) Samborne, a Norwich
factor; married Hester Clarke, widow,
daughter of Robt. Haynes of Bristol.
Children :

. (If*

* 4

■

Victor Charming Sanborn.

P. C. C.)i dated June 3, 1676. is as
follows :

To be buried at Somerset House, or the
Chapel Royal. To the poor 50 pounds.
To wife Margaret Samborne, (besides 100
pounds a year out of estate of Lhvyngert-
wyth) all right to the lease of the house
where I now live in Axe Yard, Westminster..
To eldest brother Michael Samborne, ico
pounds. To two nieces, daughters of
brother Richard Samborne, £50. To
Widow of late John Samborne, ^100. To
children of my nephew, John Le Bas, ,£50.
To nephew, James Le Bas, £50. To loving
friend, Lewis Lewis, Esq. To my wife's
children, Francis and Richard Gosfruit.
Rest to children of Nephew Richard Le
Bas, — he to sell my goods to satisfy this
will, including the jewel I bought from the
Swedish Ambassador for ^500.

i. William, died young.

ii. Mary.

iii. Elizabeth, living in 16S7.

42. Rev. Thomas 8 (30) Samborne, Rector
of L T pper Clatford, Hants. Presented
to the living by Sir Thomas Jervois in
1632. Matriculated at Magdalen Col-
lege, Oxford, 1623 Married Mary

, who survived him, and in 1664

with her son Thomas disputed the pos-
session of the Rectory with Rev. An-
thony Earbury. Children (From Upper
Clatford Register) :

i. Mary, b. Oct. 9, 1634.

ii. Thomas, b. Aug. 29, 1636.

iii. William, b. Aug. 14, 163S.

iv. Elizabeth, b. March 17, 1640.

v. Jam Kb, b. July 8, 1643; Oxford, 1661 ;

rector of Mersham, Kent.

vi. Anne, b. Feb. 17, 1645.

No further Samborne record ap-
pears in the Upper Clatford registers
except "The Reverend Father in God,
Mr. Thomas Samborne, son of Mr.
James Samborne, Parson of Tapper
Clatford, died Sept. 27, and was
buried Octo. 2, 1662."

43. James 8 (^o) Samborne, Esq., of
Andover, Hants. Linen Draper, born
1610. Bailiff of Andover, 1666, and
his name appears often in Andover
town records. In the tower of Andover
Church is a white marble slab, bearing
the Samborne arms and reading as fol-
lows :

Under this place lieth interred the body
of James Samborne, gent., of this town, who
died Sept. 19, 1669, — also in the same place
lieth interred the body of Katherine Sam-
borne, relict of the said James Samborne,
who died Apr. 17, 1715.

James Samborne 'swill, dated Sept.

THE AMERICAN AND ENGLISH SAMBORNES.

iS, 1669, filed Coke 146 P. C, C, is
as follows :

Wife Catharine to have ,£850 and house-
hold goods. Son James /Soo. Dau. Mar-
tha £s°°- C'^ t a s e oi 2l or ^ a y oi ~

marriage.) Son Julius £700. Dau. Chris-
tian /400 If I die without issue ^100 to
the poor, balance to be divided into two
parts. — one half to my wife, if she die then
^40 to sister Fleetwood. /30 to sister
Merriatt. £40 to the poor. 20s. to sister
Higge for a ring. Executors. Thos. Plum-
raion of London, Henry Kelsey of Winches-
ter, Joseph Hinxman of Ando- _r. and John
Ravley of London, ^5 apiece to them. ^4
to sister Lawrence. 20s. to Mr. Braith-
waite, minister of Enham. 20s. to Philip
Liddiard.

Children of James Samborne :

i. James, died in 172;. and endowed a
charity school in Hatherden, near
•Andover. A memorial tablet en-
graved with the Samborne arms is
over the door of the school.

ii. JULIUS, bailiff and town clerk of An-
dover ; an influential citizen.

iii. Martha.

iv. Christian.

Besides the foregoing connected
pedigree, I have come across the fol-
lowing scattered links, which I can-
not connect with the main line :

A. In Foster's ■' London Marriage Licen-

ses"' I And the following: — " Feby 10.
1599. Barnaby Samborne of Padding-
ton, Middlesex and Alice, daughter of
William Blackleech of Paddington."

B. r. David Samborne, probably of Lon-

don, only known of by the marriage
entry of his son Richard.

Richard Samborne, Barber, of Lon-
don. In the Register of St. Peter's,
Cornhill, I rind this entry: ** Feby. 15,
1578, wedded, Richard Sanborn, Bar-
ber, son of Davy Sanborn and Isabel
Walker, daughter of Edw. Walker,
Csiperiter. Richard Samborne was the
father (probably) of

Richard Samborne, Barber Surgeon
or" London. Will proved July 22nd,

15, Dean and

ap. of St

. Pauls,

112, mentions

r e Llrsula,

and fol-

►ving children, ;

ill minors :

Michael.

ii..

John, b. Dec.

604

; entered

Merchant

TaiJors' School, i

615.

iii.

Nathaniel.

iv.

Jonathan.

Joan.

Susan.

vii..

Hester.

vini

Jane.

C. Wiui of Richard Samborne, Skinner of
London, dated Janv. 21st, 1693, proved
P. C. C. Box 19: '

Estate devised to loving brother James
Sambontte and my friend Christopher Daven-
port of the New Inn. to be sold: To sister
Pincknery and each of her children ^100.
To brasher in law, Mr. Burrowes, ^100
hoping 'he will make better use of it than
what he.- has had. To mother in law Mrs.
Burrowe^s. and each of her daughters, £5 for
mourniiiig. To my brother Samborne,
/^2oo. To Bartholomew's Hospital ^200.
To Mr. Pride ^10. To Mr. Davenport
.£10. Mrs. Bohee my housekeeper ^35.
Brother Finckney to have my lease'. Late
wife's wearing apparel to sister Pinckney.
Rest to son Richard when he comes of
age, — if he die, then ^500 to brother Sam-
borne. Executors brother Samborne and
Chr. Davenport, each ^o pounds. Witnes-
ses Hussey Chapman, Thos. Lodge, Jane
Pallett.

A TRIP TO WESTERN TEXAS.
By G. S<ott Locke.

LEFT Concord on
Thursday , O c t o-
ber 25, for Texas,
via Chicago, Kan-
sas City, Trinidad,
Col., Alberquer-
que, New Mexico,
to El Paso ; thence on the Texas &
Pacific Railroad for Kent, a place
consisting of one building, the rail-
road station, 2,908 miles from home.
We had Wagner and Pullman sleep-
ers, with dining cars, as far as Kan-
sas City, then the eating houses on
the Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe
route. There is not much style in
serving at these eating houses but
the bill of fare is excellent. The trip
was without any unpleasant inci-
dents, and there were plenty of sights
to interest an eastern man.

As the travel to California was
heavy, our train consisted of ten tour-
ist and Pullman sleepers, three day
coaches, and three baggage cars,
these being run in two sections.
After leaving Chicago, for a thou-
sand miles this route runs through a
rich farming and grazing country,
but after passing La Junta, Col., and
following the old Santa Fe trail,
made noted by the "forty-niners,"
there is a sameness in the scenery
that soon fails to interest one. It is
a long stretch of grazing country
without a building in sight, and for
many miles is but a slight trail beside
the railroad.

A young man riding a bicycle
bearing a sign 011 which was painted,
*"0u to San Francisco-," created a
good deal of interest. He wore
knickerbockers, sweater, etc., and
presented the appearance of some
adventurous college lad. It seemed
a Herculean task, "kicking a bike "
over those rough roads, against a
heavy wind and through thick clouds
of dust. The passengers waved
handkerchiefs and hats, which he
graciously acknowledged.

At Trinidad, Col., we began to
climb the Raton mountains, with two
heavy Mogul engines, pulling seven
cars through the tunnel to the state
line, where we reached an altitude of
7,622 feet. Here the old Wooten
Ranch ruins were visible, where toll
was expected of travellers over the
Santa Fe trail when railroads were
unknown through this desolate coun-
try.

Leaving cold weather and ice in
Colorado, we descended through New
Mexico to the banks of the Rio
Grande river and El Paso. Here we
had a temperature of So in the shade ;
flowers were in full bloom and every-
thing was suggestive of mid summer.
At 4 p. m., I took the train for
Kent, One car bore a placard, " For
Whites," another, "For Negroes,"
and these regulations are strictly en-
forced, as I realized, when I entered
the wrong car and was requested to
" Take a seat in the white car, sah."

A TRIP TO WESTERN 'TEXAS.

■

Tne Railway Station.

Fearing that my man would not
reach Kent in time to meet me, I was
somewhat uneasy. The train was
due there at i r : 30 p. m., and as the
station assent has orders not»to allow
strangers inside, the prospect of walk-
ing the platform in a heavy thunder
storm was not a pleasant one. I was
relieved of my anxiety, however, by
meeting Mr. Newman, a ranchman,
and our only neighbor between Kent
and my ranch. An attempt to " hold
up" the passenger train at this sta-
tion had caused the railroad officers
to be suspicious of strangers, hence
extreme caution is used, but Mr.
Newman introduced me to the sta-
tion agent, who kindly offered me
hospitality and took me inside.

Having no blankets with me, as is
the custom when travelling through
a ranch country, I was puzzled as to
how I should pass the night with
any degree of comfort, when, to my
surprise, I discovered Mr. Perkins,
the foreman of the ranch, asleep on
the floor behind some boxes. After
greeting me in heart} - Texan fashion,
he offered to share his blankets with
me, and I ''turned in." Despite the
non-elasticity of the floor, these men
fell asleep at once and snored in per-
fect unison until daybreak. As for
myself, even though I like harmony.
so much of it became tiresome and 1
realized that I had forgfot to leave

my nerves at home. I counted black
sheep and white sheep vaulting
high walls, spelled Mississippi back-
wards, and resorted to other old-time
remedies for insomnia without avail,
and when day dawned I rejoiced
with exceeding great joy, and
punched my melodious companions
with unnecessary vigor.

After "rustling the horses," we

--.--■■ .. ........ .._.. .. ^, a , rf „- :}?3

■

The Nearest Neignbor.

',lA

started fior the ranch, thirty miles dis-
tant, passing but one house on the
route. As the travelling was heavy,
on account of the recent rain, we
were nearly all day in making the
journey. On arriving we found the
cow-boys busy shoeing horses, get-
ting their blankets ready, and bus-
tling about generally. On inquiring
the cause of the unusual commotion,
I was informed that they were prepar-
ing for a trip to the mountains in
search of wild steers. Most of the
cattle are gentle, but a few steers
will stray to the highest mountains
and become as wild as deer, causing
the other cattle to become unman-
ageable. We have good-sized moun-
tains out there. The ranch has an alti-
tude of 5,900 feet, and " Old Baldy,"
or Livermore Peak, towers 8,382 feet.

A TRIP TO WESTERN TEXAS.

As I entered camp one of the cow-
boys shouted. "Wall, Mr. Tender-
foot, you 're jest in time for the pic-
nic. We air sure gpin' to get Old
Midnight, Lightning, and Break-
away this time. The critters have
caused us a heap of trouble. They
got awav last year and year before,
and now we air goin' to camp on
their trail until we get 'em."

With fifty saddle-horses, three
mules, six cow-boys, a "horse-wran-
gler" (herder), and a cook, we started
wending our way through canyons
and oyer mountains to the head of
Lympia canyon, where we struck
camp at Grubbs' spring. Long
before daybreak we rolled up our
blankets, and eating breakfast by
moonlight, started for Livermore
Peak. Seven men and seven horses,

and when your horse gets to sliding,
as mine did, on this slippery* moun-
tain side, instinctively you would
pull up on the reins. Not so here,
for as my horse started to slide, some
one shouted, "give him the rein,
tenderfoot, and let him see where he
is stepping!" As we stopped a
moment to rest, Mr. Perkins said, —
" Xow we missed them yesterday, we

must sure land them to-da 1

You

and Jim Nunn," he said, turning to
me., ' ' go to the head of this canyon
and turn northeast. Here, Rob, you
and! Lee go up Goat canyon and turn
to t6he right. You, Buck, and Jersey,
herud up Ghost canyon for Pinery
tradSL. Xow work easy, don't talk if
yoisi strike the trail, and stay with
'emi ! "

After riding and walking for about
two hours, Mr. Nunn and myself
foir^d Old Midnight and his pals
with a " bunch " of twelve head. In
a whisper Nunn said, ''there they
are- ! ' ' Through the brush they
werat, snorting and roaring like a
steam engine, we giving chase, with
horrses running for their lives over
rodk and arroyas, through brush and
trees, until I rode into a treetop and

■

Praine View.

in Indian file, began the ascent, occa-
sionally stopping to rest or to get
down and lead their horses along the
side of the mountain, where a mis-
step would mean death to horse and
rider. I must confess I rode when I
preferred to walk, for I had a boyish
dread of showing the "white feather."
These mountains in places are
nearly covered with loose, flat rock,

Ready for the Start.

4 8

A TRIP TO WESTERN TEXAS.

pulled up, with hat off, face bleed-
ing, and Jim and cattle out of sight.
I certainly found out what rough rid-
ing was. After following the trail
for a long distance I lost it. and not
only that, I discovered that I was lost
with it. The mountains everywhere
were so much alike that it was impos-
sible to determine where to go.

Finding that my horse objected to
going my way I let him go his, and
in about two hours I struck a trail
that led me to the cattle we found the
day before. While resting, "Jersey"
came in on a hard lope. "Come on ! "
he shouted, ''the boys are up the
Pack canyon, the}' have the steers
surrounded and want help." Riding
for a couple of miles, we found one of
the men, who said, " get down and
look to the left of that juniper
tree yonder. There 's Midnight and
Lightning. Breakaway has gone
over the divide."

Directing two of the men to go on
to the other canyon, he gave me
instructions, which, you may be
sure, I followed closely, and soon
came in sight of the runaways.
Away they flew at full speed, but we
managed to turn them over the moun-
tain where the boys were ready for
them.

For six miles they raced, followed
closely by Rob and Jim, and as they
turned up Lympia canyon they passed
our camp, where Lightning was
roped and tied down after a hard
fight.

Up the canyon Midnight flew, with
Rob in close pursuit. A wire fence
spread across their path, and Mid-
night, with head close to the ground,
roaring, made for it. Down went the
steer for a moment, then up and away
again, through the fence, Rob follow-
ing at full speed, until, a mile above,
he succeeded in roping the steer,
which he held until help came.
Imagine a wild, fighting steer at-
tached to a half-inch rope thirty feet
long with one end fastened to the
pommel of your saddle, and that
steer rushing at you and roaring like
a wild beast. The cow-boy's horse
is all attention, eluding the attacks
of the rushing steer. The horse
must brace himself to throw the steer,
and by keeping the rope taut hold
him down. The cow-boy must dis-
mount ito tie the steer's legs, know-
ing if bis horse fails to do his duty
that he will have a " close call."

Later in the day the other wild
steer was captured, and with fifty
head of cattle we moved ' ' the outfit ,r
five miLesdown the canyon to Dolan's
ranch where we "made down" for
the nig!"ht, after the most exciting
day's ride I ever experienced. As
the cow-boys fell asleep under their
blankets, I watched the camp-fire
cast its shadows, and listened to the
roar of the cattle, raised by an occa-
sional dismal cry of the coyote, and
I could but wonder what tempted
those brave men to such a life of dan-
ger and. hardship.

*&&*&&&&&*

mmm wzm ax*i xm^ x^ x x^

1/ Cj

1 1

"v. ' - — ^

•

Hftbfeau-...

BY PERMISSION OF K' .

■*ku*Ju.

.DEALER A CO., NE.

ORPHEAN MUSIC.

By Edward A.. Jenks.

The legendary Orpheus and his lyre. —

Who led the wood-nymphs captive at the sound
Of his clear voice and sentient strings, and bound
The streams with bauds so soft they could not tire,
Thrilling the sylvan wilds with sweet desire
To staunch for a\e the ever-bleeding wound
Left by his lost Eurydice, — are found
Again when soft October's leafy fire

Burns on the silent mountains, and the woods
Are bursting with the melody that springs

From hidden chambers — chauntings low and deep,
Fit music for these sacred solitudes.

Here, breathless, all things listen as he sings,
And, listening, fall like children into sleep.

3T0

St*

> I

•

' ■

1 r

%»,

■ •'

•

jm- v/S

Dr. J. Alonzo Gr

DR. J. ALOXZO GREENE.

By Henry Robinson.

^fy EN years ago Dr. J.
Alonzo Greene
fixed his heart upon
New Hampshire as
a home. He spent
the summer seasons
of 1885, 1SS6, 1887,
and a part of that of 18SS, amongst our
mountains and valleys, which hold for
him a peculiar fascination.

He travelled extensively through the
mountains, and along the lake and sea-
shore resorts of New England, search-
ing for what his family and himself
might consider the best place, every-
thing considered, in which to locate ;
leaving the busy cares of city life to
pass their remaining years in comfort
and quietness in the country.

In 1889, seven years ago, he had pur-
chased the magnificent property on the
largest and most picturesque island in
our own beautiful Lake Winnipesaukee,
in the town of Moultonborough, county
of Carroll, and there with increasing
devotion to the state of his deliberate
and unselfish adoption has ever since
held and kept, not only his legal resi-
dence, but the charming resort that has
become famous for its grand and yet
unostentatious hospitality, a home that
is a happy consummation of the cheerful
and consistent cooperation of nature,
art, science, exquisite taste, wide expe-
rience, sound judgment, and a gen-
erosity that knows no limit.

It is a pleasing encomium upon the
Granite State that a discerning gentle-

man of Dr. Greene's magnitude of mind
and means should choose it as the one
bright, particular spot on God's great
footstool for him to cultivate, to love, to
cherish, upon the soil of which he lives
and wherein all that is mortal of him
will commingle with its dust when the
years of his earthly sojourn are over.

He had travelled extensively abroad;
he had seen many lands ; the biV^est
inducements, the most alluring entice-
ments were offered; the glittering pan-
orama of the whole varied world was
unrolled before him ; but amidst our
own matchless mountains, along our
own placid lakes, our winding rivers,
our rippling brooks, enraptured with
the unsurpassed spectacle of New
Hampshire scenery, thrilled with the
healthful exhilaration of our climate,
already deeply ingratiated with our
people in their agricultural and other
important industrial interests, a cham-
pion and generous supporter of our
beneficent and other worthy institu-
tions, he came quietly, modestly, unas-
sumingly, a decade ago, to be one with
us and of us, to establish here a home
that should be comfortable for himself,
suitable in every way for his family,
luxuriant for his friends however hum-
ble, and a beauty, a pride, and a glory
to the commonwealth.

Such a man is not to be ignored. A
man of Dr. Greene's iron constitution,
courteous manners, breadth of intellect,
power and force of presence and pur-
pose, companionable temperament, frank

DR. J. ALONZO G RE EXE.

and open-hearted disposition, native
tact, superior ability, and vast wealth
of resource and experience, would not,
could not, be ignored in any commu-
nity, especially as he has asked noth-
ing beyond the spontaneous good will
of his fellow-citizens.

This confiding and respectful trust of
those associated with him has been his
mascot to the thirty-second degree of
Free Masonry, where his comprehen-
sive usefulness has been greatly felt.
This unbroken confidence on the part
of those who have known him longest
and best has been his open sesame to a
conspicuous prominence and salutary
inflnence in Odd Fellowship, which he
did not seek, but of the high credit of
which he is far from being insensible.
The lustre of his good name will be
lasting, for his tent was pitched on
"fame's eternal camping ground," when
as a poor, patriotic young man, hardly
more than a boy, eighteen years of age,
December 14, 1863, he enlisted at Den-
ver in the Second Colorado cavalry.

He was wounded in the Battle of
Sand Creek, but served his country
valiantly through the War of the Rebel-
lion, and was mustered out at Fort
Leavenworth in 1S65, his commission
as colonel coming only in time of peace,
last year, when he was appointed senior
aide-de-camp on Commander Buzzell's
staff of the Grand Army of the Repub-
lic, a splendid brotherhood, whose glo-
rious roster is " on the right-hand side
and near the throne of God."

Dr. Greene is surgeon to the Amos-
keag Veterans. He is also a favored
member of the Knights of Pythias, and
of various other orders and societies,
but perhaps in nothing does he take
more pride than in his membership in
the Grange in his own town, to the great
work and w r orth of which useful organi-

zation throughout the state he has
been called to testify in able and elo-
quent addresses, which have given him
front rank as a leader and orator, elicit-
ing the deserved attention of the news-
paper press and of the public.

Dr. Greene is president of the
National Veterans' Association of New
Hampshire and vice-president of the
New Hampshire Veterans' Association.
His memberships in various dignified
bodies have been transferred, as far as
practicable, to the Granite state, but
exalted above all other orders, associa-
tions, positions of trust and confidence,
is the commanding place that Dr.
Greene holds everywhere in the Royal
Order of Eminent Good-Fellowship,
wherein he is always in close touch,
shoulder to shoulder, heart to heart,
keeping step with all the loyal good fel-
lows of whatever faith, or kin, or cir-
cumstances, who are "the salt of all the
elements, world of the world."

Do I hear some carping spirit ex-
claim, " Dr. Greene is one of the pro-
prietors of Dr. Greene's Nervura blood
and nerve remedy ! "

What of it ? Is it not an excellent
one? Is it not a legitimate one? Is it
not a profitable one to us as well as to
himself ? He pays the Amoskeag Paper
company, of Manchester, through their
Boston agents, the Rice-Kendall Com-
pany, over one hundred thousand dollars
a year for paper used in his advertising
department. He pays the newspapers
of New Hampshire between $16,000
and $17,000 a year for advertising
space, and advertises in nearly every
newspaper in the United States, and in
many foreign newspapers in different
countries.

Although Dr. Greene himself retired
from active participation in the busi-
ness as early as 1886, leaving the

DR. J. ALOXZO GREENE.

charge in the hands cf his worthy
and competent brother, F. E. Greene,
M. D., with whom he still remains a
partner, yet the business has grown to
be of such an extraordinary and tre-
mendous magnitude and scope that to
describe it in detail might awaken
incredulity. I run the risk of this inci-
dental mention merely to intimate how
closely identified are the material inter-
ests of Dr. Greene with those of Xew
England, and especially of New Hamp-
shire.

Dr. Greene's almanac is already dis-
tributed for this year, and is a model of
its kind, the issue consisting of 6.000,-
000 copies. The Commonwealth Mag-
azine is widely circulated, over 15,000,-
000 copies being annually gratuitously
distributed. He receives from the pa-
per-mill every spring forty carloads
of paper, and forty carloads every fall.
At one place in the city of Boston
Dr. Greene employs regularly between
two hundred and three hundred girls
and women, between forty and fifty
men; and he has in the neighborhood
of thirty men constantly travelling on
the road. The medicine is sold all
over the United States and shipped to
Canada, South America, Central Amer-
ica, Mexico, and the West India
islands.

But the mission of this cursory sketch
is more especially to do homage to his
persistence, courage, beneficence, integ-
rity, and capability as an individual,
rather than to compliment his acknowl-
edged skill, punctuality, push, and suc-
cess as a business magnate.

He " took occasion by the beard,"
and mastered all impediments. He
would have succeeded anywhere and in
any vocation. The faculty of success
is strikingly marked in him. That rare
combination of physical courage, men-

tal capacity, thoroughness, indomitable
will, that he possesses constitutes him
a Napoleon amongst men. Gentle as
a child, tolerant and indulgent in his
social relations, he is nevertheless
equipped with that magical force, those
indefinable qualities, that make one
man so much superior to others. His
is one of those fine spirits that have
been described as never faltering. It
rises to the ordeal, and, whatever the
burdens and barriers, it bears them and
surmounts them. The acuteness of his
intellect, the rich treasures of his
thought, study, and observation, the
earnestness and honesty of his charac-
ter and friendships, the self-respecting,
high and irreproachable estimate that
he puts upon his honor. That is true
success !

Dr. Greene was born in Whitingham,
Vt., ten miles west of Brattleboro,
November 5, 1S45. His grandfather,
Nathaniel Greene, of Revolutionary
fame, was one of the first settlers in
that neighborhood, one of his earli-
est enterprises there being to erect
a fence to keep the wolves from his
home.

The Greene family moved to Boston
a few months later, where Alonzo
attended public school and afterward
engaged in the study of medicine, with
the view of succeeding his father, Reu-
ben Greene, who was a learned and
skilful physician in active practice
when the War of the Rebellion broke
out.

Young Greene had a skeleton undei
his bed to exemplify his researches in
anatomy; his bureau drawers and room
generally were filled with old bones,
and he became tired of medicine. He
dreamed of it at night and had fright-
ful nightmares, and the thought of
going into the active practice of the

*v,

. i,zJlC*.'Z~l - -

r -

'/"- i

l:r

DR. J. ALONZO GREENE.

profession became very distasteful to
him. He told his father that he was
going to enlist in the army, but his
father withheld his consent, the son
being yet in his teens and in the judg-
ment of the parent not old or strong
enough to endure the hardships of a
common soldier. If the truth were
known it would be found that, notwith-
standing the father's objections, young
Greene did actually enlis*- in Massachu-
setts, but at the instance of his father
was discharged. Then, with only three
dollars in his pocket, he set out for the
West. He drove six yoke of oxen from
Omaha to Denver, in relief to General
Fremont at Pike's Peak. His oppor-
tunity, for enlistment in the West has
already been mentioned.

After the war, Dr. Greene resumed
his medical studies with renewed
energy. He was creditably graduated
from the Eclectic Medical Institute of
Cincinnati, Ohio, in 1867, and very
soon thereafter engaged in business as a
physician with his father, who practised
medicine in the very same building in
Boston (34 Temple Place) for forty
years, in which Dr. Greene still has
a business office to-day.

It is a remarkable incident that
might be mentioned in this connec-
tion, that during the war Dr. Greene's
father, Reuben Greene, was thrown
from a carriage and had his knee-cap
injured. He offered to enlist, but was
refused. He then hired a man to go
to the war for him, the substitute giv-
ing the name of Reuben Greene. This
man was killed, and then Dr. Greene's
father hired still another man to go in
his place, taking the same name. The
second man was also killed ; so that
Dr. Greene's father, or rather Reuben
Greene, was killed two times during
the Rebellion.

Dr. Reuben Greene, the father of
Drs. J. Alonzo and F. E. Greene,
treated many nervous diseases and
used one particular prescription with
wonderful success. When the young
men purchased the interest of their
father in the business, he told them
that this prescription was a great nerve
and brain invigorant, in fact the best
and most effectual remedy that he had
ever known for nervous diseases. It
was included in the sale, and from that
very same prescription the far-famed
panacea, the " Balm in Gilead,'' Dr.
Greene's Nervura, the great blood and
nerve remedy, the superior merits of
which are now so universally recog-
nized, is made.

Dr. Greene's mother, a very estim-
able lady, was Lydia (Waste) Greene.
In SS67 he married Miss Lucretia V.
Drew, of Boston, a lady of culture,
refinement, and taste. They have had
three children, two of whom are dead,
the surviving one, a son, being now
twenty-six years of age. He has charge
of the affairs of his father in relation to
the farm, employing just now in the
neighborhood of twenty men in cutting
wood and otherwise on the premises
at Roxmont Castle, Long Island, this
state, which comprises hundreds of
acres of rich tillage and other land. He
is also extensively engaged in business
besides his responsibilities at Roxmont.

It was in the summer of 1889 that
Dr. Greene bought the two farms now-
comprised in his large homestead place
on Long Island and moved thither with
his wife and son, his household effects,
bag and baggage, horses, cats, dogs,
and all, and established his formal
and legal residence there. Desiring to
extend his farming and stock-raising
operations, which were even then very
considerable, he purchased four adjoin-

DR. J. ALONZO GREENE.

ing farms in 1S90. The deeds for
these were made out by the owners
or their agents and given to Dr.
Greene's agent, without consultation
with him. Two of these deeds are cor-
rect, and give his residence as Moulton-
borough, while one inadvertently gives
it as Centre Harbor and another as New
York. The doctor never had the pleas-
ure of residing, voting, or paying taxes
in either Centre Harbor or New York.

than four thousand were entertained by
the hospitable doctor and his good wife
at dinner, these numerous tourists and
guests comprising various delegations
from all sections of the state, each and
every one of them anxious to make
available the magical latchstring that
always hangs out.

The farm is highly stocked with
fancy breeds of fowl and cattle, and is
a source of much pleasure and gratifi-

. 1

. -

......

: -
r

- -

The Hall, Roxmont

His Roxmont stock and poultry farm
has been visited during the seven years
last past by hundreds of friends and
enthusiastic admirers, going by special
trains and steamboats, including the
Amoskeag Veterans and their ladies,
the Masons and their ladies of Belknap
and Carroll counties, the Odd Fellows
and their ladies of Lake Village, the
Knights of Pythias and their ladies,
the State Board of Agriculture, the
State Grange with their ladies, and it
is a fact that in a single week more

cation to its owner, who spends the
greater par: of his time during the sum-
mer months in overseeing it and in
hunting and fishing in the neighboring
country, for Dr. Greene is a sportsman
of no small calibre.

He organized the Winnipesaukee
Transportation company, built two
steamboats, the Eagle and the Roxmont,
and chartered still another, the Cyclone,
and the facilities for going to and from
his residence are very fine. He has
recently purchased all the stock in the

DR. /. ALONZO GREENE.

company, and now runs it, with his son
as general manager and owner in part.

His superb castle is favorably located,
commanding an unobstructed view in
every direction. From one of the
"towers" the extensive grounds, beau-
tifully laid out, stretch away from the
shores of the lake, studded with its
charming islands, while an almost con-
tinuous chain of mountains skirts the
horizon.

The main hall is over twenty-five feet
high, with a gallery running around it,
and entirely finished in oak, while the
costly Eastern rugs which; hang over
the railing give it a rich, Oriental effect,
and there is a broad fire-place up which
the great fires of hospitality roar.

Amongst the numerous curiosities
which are shown to visitors are swords
and canes from nearly every country
on the globe.

W 1

yhS". J .-S4

• fc

„-.^-

_. 1

■ \. IP 1

J %J f"

--.-— '?•• J< -^--

*?.? -=■

The Dining-room, Rorr-nont.

This cattle is a veritable treasure-
house of curiosities and rare articles
of furniture and rugs collected by the
doctor and his wife in their journeys
over the entire world.

From the massive hall clock of Eng-
lish manufacture one can hear the beau-
tiful Westminster chimes and the Whit-
tington bells ; and the music box, about
five feet long and one of the finest in
the country, dispenses the sweetest
strains.

A visit to this elegant dwelling is
especially interesting, from the fact,
which is modestly mentioned, that the
plans for it were drawn by Mrs. Greene
from her own ideas. It was not an
attempt to copy any foreign castle vis-
ited abroad, but the working out of her
original theory of a good home.

The doctor has just now thirty-three
brood mares, and two stallions, one
the famous "General Lyon, Jr.," the
other the well-known '• Saucy Tom."

DR. /. ALONZO GREENE.

,-^y- «>~

Ms*

'.'r? r rr:.--__ ' " - j; / '.

ro:^ ?

•V ijiiW V- ■ ■■'- , - v X^r^&Z:--

1 1, *

H£;

S^B

The story of his blooded horses and
cattle with their several pedigrees
would of itself make an interesting
article. His is one of the largest horse-
raising establishments in New England,
as he is also the proprietor of the
largest poultry farm. Along the sandy
shore of the lake are placed houses
for the accommodation of one thousand
ducks and five thousand hens, which
thrive in the healthful location. A
small brook, fed by springs, courses
down through the valley for a mile or
more, and this stream is lined on either
side by nearly a hundred houses for
the accommodation of chicks and duck-
lings. The incubator house is a two-
story building, seventy by forty, in the
cellar of which are arranged the incu-
bators, each with a capacity of six hun-
dred eggs.

The doctor is a director in two build-
ing associations of New Hampshire, the

Masonic of Laconia and the Odd Fel-
lows of Lakeport. He is an owner in
the Weirs Land and Hotel company, a
share owner in one of the most enter-
prising and widest circulating newspa-
pers in the state, and he has various
other local holdings, all conducing to
make his responsibilities and liabilities
one and the same with those of our peo-
ple, and his home here one of perma-
nence as well as elegance and prosper-
ity. It Is appropriate and fitting that
the Granite Monthly, our own maga-
zine, which has chronicled the merits
and deeds of so many illustrious sons of
Xew Hampshire, the home of Stark, of
Webster,, of Pierce, of Hale, should open
its guarded covers to include and per-
petuate the record of this worthy gen-
tleman, this well-born, well-bred, and
skilled physician, this popular lecturer
and eloquent advocate of what is pure
and beneficial, this extensive traveller

DR. /. ALOhZO GREECE.

and close student, boih of books and
human nature, this kindly, hospitable,
charitable, public-spirited citizen, this
broad-minded, unassuming, unobtrusive
capitalist and general benefactor,
J. Alonzo Greene.

A rounded man of Dr. Greene's sort,
with hardy common sense, a tremen-
dous following amongst the people, a
thorough, practical education, a quick,
powerful grasp of understanding, a
wonderful executive faculty and knack
to deal successfully with men and
things, a brilliant speaker, with prepos-
sessing personality, and with important
interests identical with all that pertains
to the industrial welfare and general
prosperity of his state, is almost sure to
have his name mentioned sooner or
later in connection with popular office ;
but it is only seldom that party leaders
and their followers so persistently beset
a man to become a candidate.

Dr. Greene has never been a political
aspirant, and has uniformly declined to
allow the use of his name as such, but
it is well known that just now an unpre-
cedented pressure is being brought to
bear upon him, from all classes, to enter
the field for the gubernatorial nomina-
tion of the Republican party, with the
principles of which organization he is
firmly allied, and it is a fact that hun-
dreds — yes, thousands — of earnest soli-
citations and impatient importunities
have been received by him to announce
himself as a candidate; yet he has not
consented to do so.

His claim geographically, as well as
otherwise, would be equal, if not supe-
rior, to that of any other possible can-
didate for recognition, and upon none
could the considerable responsibility
and honor be more appropriately and
safely placed ; but Dr Greene did not
come to New Hampshire ten years ago,

to seek a home, as Ingersoll would say?
"out of the mad race for money, place,
and power," with any notion whatever of
political distinction. The subject of
this sketch is away, and I can not
assume to speak for him now, but he
has said :

"I fully appreciate the high honor
and great responsibility of the office,
and if my friends throughout the state
feel next summer toward my candidacy
as they appear to feel at the present
time„ I shall be very proud to allow my
name to go before the convention.
You may say, also, that if my name
goes before that body at all, it will go
there for the purpose of winning the
nomination."

This last is a very significant remark,
for Dr. J. Alonzo Greene is one of those
indomitable managers, with the genius
of conquest, who never yet was thwarted
in his deliberate purposes. One is re-
minded of the comforting remark of the
old man to the new teacher, about the
dog, in Edward Eggleston's noted novel,
'•The Hoosier Schoolmaster," " Ef
Bull once takes a holt, heaven and
yarth can't make him let go." Such is
the substantial structure of the robust
character of the noble-hearted, patriotic
veteran who let loose the American
eagle at the National G. A. R. encamp-
ment, at Louisville, Ken., last Septem-
ber, that he suggests one of nature's
elemental, invincible forces. As was
said of Daniel Webster, it is like asso-
ciation with the law of gravitation
itself.

At the Kentucky encampment, the
twenty-ninth annual, the first ever held
on southern soil, in the grand proces-
sion, close behind the veterans from
Rhode Island came the New Hamp-
shire comrades, at the head of whose
column was borne a large bald eagle,

DR. J. ALOKZO GREENE.

captured eight years ago in the Green
mountains. The proud bird was in a
large wire and wood cage, tastefully
decorated, set upon poles, and carried
by four negroes, clad in the national
colors. He has been a conspicuous
feature in every parnde in which the
New Hampshire comrades have taken
part for the last seven years, but they
determined to celebrate the occasion of
their first visit south by liberating him
in front of the reviewing stand. He
was presented to the department by
Comrade Greene. Although retaining
his strength and power, the bird re-
fused to leave the grand stand, and he
was returned to his cage and brought
back to.Roxmont, Dr. Greene's beauti-
ful home at Lake YYinnipesaukee, the
harbinger of victory to come. I am
not a prophet, nor the son of a prophet,
but I predict that the eagle will yet take
his victorious ilight over New Hamp-
shire.

Dr. Greene's private life is above
reproach. Against him has never been
raised the clamor of scandal. Within
the home circle he is gentle, affection-
ate, helpful, and all that an exemplary
husband and father should be. His
fondness for pets and his kindness
toward all his creatures are character-
istic of his noble nature. Never is he
so happy as in noiseless charities, never
so contented as when serving others.
There is no discount upon his sterling
merit. He belongs in the resplendent
galaxy of the state's best sons. He is
a positive star in the firmament of our
stability as a commonwealth, a strong
factor in our prestige and influence as a
people. He is a guide and not a dicta-
tor, but his mature judgment justifies
the deference of imperative command.
Although a frequent attendant upon
religious services, and a firm believer in

the Deity, he is closely allied to that
great church whose sunlit aisles are
broadl enough for everybody.

Dr.. Greene takes correct views of
popular questions, whatever may be the
sentiment of the hour, and upon all
civic problems he is level-headed and
statesmanlike. He has always been
recognized as the strong friend of the
laboring classes and the poor, for his
beginning in life was amongst the hum-
blest,, and he may rightfully be said to
be the architect of his own fortune. It
is an honor to such a man to be rich,
for hiis riches were acquired through a
legitimate and honorable profession, the
most exalted and ennobling calling
upon <earth and amongst men, that of a
beneficent, well-read, and skilful physi-
cian. For him to have ample means is
a benefit to all, for it is his chief pleas-
ure to.' use them for the edification, edu-
cation;, and advancement of his fellow-
men.

He abhors shams of all kinds. One
of the- salient features of his life is his
frank sincerity, and his mission has
been and is to build up, to encourage,
to help mankind. He never stoops to
idle gossip about his friends and neigh-
bors. His impulses, his inspirations,
his ide als are high and commendable.

As an observant traveller through
Europe. South America, West India, Asia,
and Japan, he is replete with informa-
tion, amd, being a remarkably fluent and
captivating converser, he is a most
desirable acquaintance and entertain-
ing companion. I asked him, only the
other day, what was the most startling
adventure in his arrny experience, and
here give his answer verbatim :

" The most memorable incident, as I
now 'recall my army experience, hap-
pened-; two or three months after the
close of the war, while my regiment was

DR. J. ALOXZO GREENE.

on the way from Pueblo to Fort Leav-
enworth, to be mustered out of service.
There was no railroad west of the Mis-
souri river in those days, and we were
marching down the Arkansas valley.
Antelope were plentiful. Three of us
went away from camp one evening for
a midnight hunt, and became lost in
the foot-hills of the Rocky and Ratoon
mountains. My horse got lame. My
two companions left me. A storm set
in. After roaming around for four
days, sustaining myself on dried ante-
lope meat, which became so tainted
that I could not eat it, and went hun-
gry, I saw a herd of Mexican sheep and
a Mexican boy herding them. From
him I obtained food, and was shown
the trail from Sante Fe to Fort Lyon
(where now is the town of La Junta\for
which place I set out. On the way
thither I met a corporal's guard which
placed me under arrest for desertion, and
I was taken a solitary prisoner on the
journey to Fort Lyon. "Wolves would
not permit of any sleep, except what I
got in the saddle. We reached Fort Lyon
after three days' travel, having been
absent from my regiment seven days.
I explained the matter to my captain
(Anderson) and the major who was in
command (Wyancope). and was excused
and sent to my company for duty.
Colonel Chivington was not with the
regiment at this time. Chivington is
now coroner at Denver. My compan-
ions were never heard from. They
were killed by the Indians, or perished
in the mountains, or deserted and suc-
ceeded in reaching the mining camps of
the Rocky mountains or the cattle
ranges of New Mexico." In a recent
conversation Dr. Greene related the fol-
lowing interesting experience while in
the L'nited States service :

"I resided in Massachusetts when

the war broke out, and enlisted in the
Sixth Massachusetts regiment. I was
only sixteen years of age, and my father
raised severe objections. In fact, he
went to the army head-quarters, swore
that I was under age, — as I was, — and
had me discharged.

" But I was bound to go, and as soon
as school let out, I skipped from home
zmd started for Pike's Peak. I went
with six yoke of oxen across the
western plains to the mining districts of
Colorado, and when I reached there I
enlisted in the Second Colorado cav-
alry. That was in '63.

" Our fighting was mostly against the
Indians, although we had to meet Price
and his men a few times when they
made raids into Missouri. In 1S63 I
was detailed as a scout. You see I
was the kid of the company. I was a
good rider and feared nothing, being
very young, and so was placed in this
line of work. I am one of the few men
who went into the service as a private
and came out a private."

" What was the most exciting time
you ever had, Doctor ? "

"Well, that is hard to tell, but prob-
ably the one where the greatest number
of lives were lost was at Sand Creek.
We had been chasing a band of three
thousand Indians, consisting of Kiowas,
Sioux, and Choctaws, who were on the
warpath.

; ' We located them the night before
tn this creek and fought them all day,
and when the sun went down there was
scarcely one left. There were three
regiments of us, under command of
Colonel Chivington. That morning
before we commenced the fight the
colonel came to us and said :

" ' Boys, kill everything that smells
like an Indian.'

" We obeyed him to the letter. We

DR. _/. ALOXZO GREENE.

had to. Men, women, and children,
three thousand of them, fell before us
on that day. They fought like demons.
They were armed with muzzle-load-
ing muskets. The men shot the guns,
and some of the women loaded them,
while the rest of the women and chil-
dren danced around a fire yelling their
fiercest whoops.

"Our men were marshalled into three
divisions. One of them was sent on one
side of the creek, which is a big ravine
in which there was little water and
formed somewhat of a basin, another
was sent on the other side, and the
third was sent to the rear of the Indians.
The company in the rear drove the
Indians to the front, while those on
either side fired into them as they
advanced from the sides. No mercy
was shown. They all fell down alike,
but they died game, lighting till the end
came.

" Did we take any prisoners ? Just
two white men named Smith. They
were Texans by birth, and to them was
due a great deal of the trouble. They
started in as traders among the Indians,
and got acquainted with them and their
ways.

"They saw there was money in kill-
ing white people and plundering their
settlements, so they stayed with the
Indians and incited them to their cruel
deeds. You can always put it down
that when you hear of trouble among
the Indians there is some white man at
the bottom of it.

" As soon as these two men reached
camp as prisoners, an officer, when
hardly any one was looking, took out
his revolver and shot them dead. The
roll had been called, and a shot at that
time attracted attention. Colonel Chiv-
ington knew what had happened, but
didn't let on, as he was glad of what

had occurred, and perhaps knew about
it beforehand. But he had to say some-
thing.

""Boys/ said he, 'how often have I
got to tell you to be more careful with
your firearms in camps ? Here are two
more men killed by accident.'

"And the two men were reported to
the department as accidentally shot.
That day's work, however, cost Colonel
Chivingion his commission. He was
reported to the war department at
Washington for unnecessarily massa-
cring the Indians, and he was cashiered,
or, in other words, dishonorably dis-
charged.

"What made Colonel Chivington so
ferocious was because he had lost his
wife and two children at the hands of
the Indians. They had also destroyed
some twenty villages, killed the men
and children, captured the women, tor-
tured and abused them, and mercilessly
slaughtered many.

" Colonel Chivington was a clergy-
man. He went out West with Fre-
mont's first expedition, and used to
preach among the miners. He studied
the Indian habits, and knew them well,
and when the war broke out he asked
for a commission, and raised his own
regiment. Although he was ferocious
on this occasion, he didn't forget that
he was a clergyman, and often have I
heard him gruffly call out :

" • Boys, take off your hats while I
pray.'

"And he prayed, while we bowed our
heads in silence.

" His knowledge of Indian methods
was of great service to him in this bat-
tle. There is no question but that if
the Indians had been on their horses
they would have killed every one of us.
They are very agile and expert on horse-
back, and we would have fared badly.

RBS

"The colonel knew this, and as soon
as he learned where the Indians were
he knew that their ponies must be graz-
ing loose in the fields nearby. He ac-
cordingly sent a company of officers
to find their horses, get between them
and the Indians, and stampede them in
the other direction. It worked like a
charm, and the Indians were at our
mercy.

i; I went over this creek again about
six months after, and tnere was nothing
but the bones of the three thousand
left. The wolves had feasted on the
flesh."

Dr. Greene's standing and experi-
ence, his wealth of learning, his busi-
ness success and intellectual versatility
entitle him, as a representative man,
to a full biography, such as might well
fill a volume, but the space now allotted
for the purpose is such that I close
this article with a quotation from him,
spontaneously and unselfishly testifying
to his preeminent regard and fond
admiration for his own state of Xew
Hampshire, this ' ; Switzerland of Amer-
ica."

It was the peroration of a forceful
and very eloquent speech delivered
extemporaneously at Boston on the
17th of June last, at the elegant ban-
quet of the Amoskeag Veterans, the
Putnam Phalanx, the Worcester Conti-

nentals, and friends of these organiza-
tions. His words were as follows :

f * It has been my fortune to travel in
nearly all parts of the world, and I
affirm, without prejudice or partiality,
that, from the spice-laden breezes of
tropic isles, and the burning sands of
Indian Egypt, to the snow-crowned
Himalayas and the glittering frosts of
the Empire of the Czar, from the home
of the cowardly Chinese and brave
little Japs, to the land of Cleopatra
and the Golden Horn, from the dia-
mond fields of South Africa to the
Land of the Midnight Sun, — there
exists no place superior to rock-ribbed
and verdure-clad New Hampshire.
Skies are nowhere brighter, fields no-
where greener, men nowhere braver,
children nowhere nobler, women no-
where lovelier. The sun in all its
course does not shine on more beauti-
ful lakes, more picturesque streams,
more fertile valleys, nobler mountains,
more charming dells and hillsides.
Here, throughout these dales, highlands,
and lakeshores, silvered by night under
the star-decked canopy of heaven, glori-
ous by day under the genial sunshine,
fanned by the pure health-given breezes
of nature, and arched by the blue dome
of the eternal sky, lies the garden
spot of America, the Eldorado of the
world."

REST.

By Willis Edwin Hurd.

Calm as a northern twilight

That gently closes down,
There comes with hope's new insight

Sweet rest without a frown.

<<</.

THE LEGEND OF JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE

By E. P. Tenner.
CHAPTER I.

^w^^^^mr^^ : W EET melodies
flowing down from
the sky, like rills
from the m o u n-
tains, awakened
Raymond Foote
from his refresh-
ing sleep in Boston jail. The prison-
er's ear was quick to discern another
voice than that of the songsters which
rested in the maples hard by.

"If there were crevices in the
firmament, I should think this song
to be celestial."

"Perhaps," he added, listening,
"the opening rifts of day dawn in
the overarching heaven have allowed
some angel to escape."

Listening again, — "It is sweeter
than an angel ; it is the voice of an
old friend."

Listening again, — " Mary ! Mary ! "

At the sound of the minister's
voice, Mary Glasse was startled like
a timid bird, and she returned to her
lodging. When Mar}* left the jail,
it was with a curious sense of fool-
ishness as well as self approbation.

"Martha," she called, "let us
hasten home. I fear that the jailor
will waken."

The faithful friend, who had just
completed her toilet at the spring,
sprang to her feet.

"Did you ever dream, Martha, of
seeing the dead ? "

' Yes. Last night, I saw your
mother standing at your bed. But
I cannot say it was a dream. I
thought I saw her with my waking
eyes. It was just before cock-crow-
ing. And then she was lost to
me."

' ' It was indeed my mother. This
is the second time I have seen her.
How can any one but dread to see
one's dearest friend if now she
belongs to the dead?" Mary hesi-
tated, steadied herself upon Martha's
arm, — "" I thought I saw the halter-
mark. Did you see it ? "

' ' It was by that I knew her. You
know that my mother saw it all.
Would to God we'd never known
it."

Mary, after a long pause, an-
swered, — " It meant something that
she came, although she did not
speak. There was grief and pity in.
her eyes, just as I first remember her ;
and she raised her finger, warning,
and was about to speak, when the
cock crew."

"It was," said Martha, "that
night when Mr. Levin stayed so long
that I saw her first ; but I fainted
when she moved to speak, and I
heard nothing." Then Martha stayed
a moment in her words, as if she had
no right to go farther. " Was that
when you first saw her? "

" It was that very night before

LEGEND OF JOHN LEVIN AND MARTGLASSE,

cock-crowing. And she bade me
thrice to befriend John Levin, nay,
to be his best friend, and to cling to
no one else : but never to marry
him." Then Mary stopped short,
and looked upon the ground, and
waited for words to come. " But you
know I had just engaged to marry
him, and what could T do ? "

" Did you engage to marry ? You
never told me that."

"I could not tell you after my
mother warned me. I would not tell
you now, but I am half beside my-
self with fear ; and half in ecstasy
with this morning's excitement,
which was more whimsical than pru-
dent.. But do you know, Martha,
that I determined last night to do it
as soon as I heard of Ravmond's
arrest ; for I believe John Levin had
something to do with it. And if he
did, I '11 indeed be his best friend and
tell him what I think."

"I'm glad to hear you say that;
for I cannot bear to have you turn
from Raymond, even in your thought,
to this handsome, dark John Levin."

" Dark, did you say? Why, I am
dark too."

" Yes, you do look like him. But
you notice I said handsome. You
know that I always clung to you for
your manly beauty till the doctor
came along with his three rings." '

CHAPTER II.

When Raymond Foote heard the
silence which followed his call of
"Mars-," he could but regret his
speech. Next, he heard the jail-
keeper, Hodgman, and saw him
emerge, yawning, and rubbing his
eyes and ears to catch sight and
sound of the unusual commotion out-
side and in.

Hodgman heard the birds still sing-
ing, — nothing more ; 'and since the
cawing of crows was the only bird-
music which from boyhood associa-
tion on the Saugus marshes really
interested him, he crawled back to
bed again. Hodgman felt in good
moc-d to sleep this morning, and to
take his ease ; Raymond Foote being
no poor prisoner, — thanks to his sea-
voyaging and mercantile good wit.
With fees jingling in his mind's ears,
Hodgman slept soundly.

Raymond, having come to jail for
love of liberty, now, for the love of
having his own way, went forth from
his somewhat shaky prison house, by
means which would have been little
approved by the royal governor, and
fotuad his way to the house of Mis-
tress Race where Mary was. He
san.^: no puritanical hymn, but. as
if to> shock Mary Glasse's puritanical
aim:, a rollicking sailor love-sons:.
The niece of Mistress Race was, how-
ever, now so prudent as to make no
vocal response ; but what could the
girl do less than snatch up a hand-
kerchief and throw it out of the win-
dow, — no matter if it was Martha's.
Raymond returned with his trophy ;
and began to storm, in a voice like a
speaking-trumpet, at his jailor's door.

t; It is June now. Do you mean to
sleep till January ? It's last month
since I had anything to eat."

Amd opening the door he flung
coins at Hodgman's head. " Get up,
my hearty."

So the popular parson of Chebacco
broke his fast, while the bird songs
were still stealing in at his window.

CHAPTER III.

As the tall, broad-shouldered pris-
oner picked his teeth after breakfast.

LEGEND OE JO FIX LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE

the same dream ; and again she told
it to me, — on Sunday morning, mind
you, before breakfast. And upon
that very Sunday afternoon after she
had returned from Salem, Doctor
Lang-don came to her father's door,
riding upon a black horse ; and he
made love to Martha, and gave her
three rings, and told her that she
was fated to be his wife. And she
said that he was fated to be her hus-
band. And now they are just as
happy as ' '

"As if they 'd always known each
other, as you and I have."

This sudden turn by Raymond
silenced Mary, and set her to blush-
ing and to thinking about— John
Levin and her engagement to him ;
concerning which Raymond did not
know.

Hodgman now put in his appear-
ance, with a key large enough to be
the key of knowledge, and dismissed
Mary ; and Raymond was left in soli-
tary confinement,- — too solitary, he
thought.

CHAPTER IV.

" Do you think. Martha, that it
wa^ quite prudent in me to serenade
Mr. Foote. this morning?" asked
Mary, that afternoon, when they
were far upon their homeward way,
towaid Manchester-by-the-sea, which
by some of the old people was still
called by its early name, Jeffrey's
Creek.

11 No, I do not. You would not
catch me bouncing out of bed before
daylight to serenade a man I was not
engaged to."

" Very likely."

"Perhaps, however, you are bent
on having a quarrel with John Levin.
If so, it will not be strange if he

imagines that he has grounds for it."
'That's a fact, for I suppose he
will know it and know much more
that never happened, before night ;
ior, did you not see our angel, our
lovely widow, our Adipose, hovering
near, when she returned from sitting
up with Dame Dobson ? ' '

" Oh, yes, Angelica will make sure
to tell John Levin all she heard and
a good deal more, as soon as she can-
get back to Salem. If she was not
so fat, she would be there on a broom-
stick inside of an hour. Angelica
Adipose is so angelic, so apt to fly
about, with that heavenly disposi-
tion of her's, I don't see how you
ever survived having her for your
nurse. But then she 's a good sew-
ing woman ; and you know that she
made my cucumber dress — just her
taste you know — and that true-love
knot which the doctor so dotes on.
And of course I had to have her take
my wedding stitches for me. If she
comes to-morrow to finish me off, I
hope you '11 come over and see her."

CHAPTER V.

No sooner was Mary Glasse alone
in her father's house than she was
quite sure she had been imprudent.
She had gone too far. Too far for
what^ Too far to be pleasing to
John Levin.

Then she blamed herself. Had
she not always been too shrinking,
else ever-bold ? Too shrinking she
had been, if she had known it, as to
Raymond Foote ; who would long
since have declared himself her lover
as well as friend, upon the slightest
encouragement or demonstration on
her part. Her impulsive self-asser-
tion of this morning, following her
instinct rather than her judgment,

LEGEND OF JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE.

would certainly disturb John Levin.
So thought the sensitive girl, so
easily moved hither and thither by
the breath of the hour.

And she thought of it all next day,
when she pulled the weeds out of her
garden, and adorned her flower beds
with a margin of quahaug shells.
The imaginative and not quite well-
balanced Mary fancied to herself all
that day that she hzd set up a see-
saw in her heart, with a new friend
at one end and an old friend at the
other. She imagined her father —
now homeward bound from Spain —
standing in her heart, not steadfast,
but adding his weight to that of John
Levin upon one side of the see-saw.

But it almost threw her off her
equipoise when she thought of her
mothei , resting uneasily in her tragic
grave, and rising from it in night
visions to warn her daughter against
John Levin. Had she not schooled
herself since she had been a child to
keep this dreadful thought of her
dead mother out of her mind, ever
since her wretched and mischief-mak-
ing child nurse, Angelica, had so
injudiciously told her the horrible
story ? No wonder that she tried to
keep it out of mind, to push it out of
mind violently, and sometimes to com-
pel herself by seeming levity to speak
and act as if it were all a dream.

And then, too, there aro.->e before
her, as she set the purple edged
shells in orderly rows, the form^ of
her two brothers, the manly Tom
and the roystering, yet sensible lad,
Jim, both asleep at the bottom of the
sea. Had they not always loved Ray-
mond Foote? What would they have
thought of the handsome, dark-fea-
tured stranger who had come up out
of the mysterious sea ?

Then Mary stood long upon her
own threshold, in the twilight, won-
dering whether it had been a happy
providence that she had fished John
Levin out of the brine with a boat-
hook at the Misery.

At the evening fireside she gazed
alternately upon dancing flaines and
smouldering embers, and saw visions
forming and dissolving, — the fascinat-
ing John Levin and his great mastiff,
Raymond Foote imprisoned, and
Martha's wedding. And when Mary
went to her cot, it was not to sleep.
It was in that corner of the room
where her mother had slept. Who
cc=uld tell whether the dead might
revisit her daughter before niorn-
iutg ?

But there was that night no unwel-
come ghastly return to the old home
of one torn from it by violence, and
no warning finger raised to quench
the flaming of Mary's heart which
finally centered — for the night — upon
her accepted lover with whom she
was to " stand up" at Martha Dune's
marriage with the doctor.

Wide-awake, after brief napping in
the small hours, Mary went out to
watch the delicate tints of the day-
dawn stealing up from the heart of
the sea.

Can it be said of her, any more
truly than of her mother before her,
arid of the young women of a thou-
sand generations, that the early hours'
brought pleasant fancies concerning
her tall, lithe-limbed lover, whose
muscular vigor had so pleased her
father ? Of simple ways and ignorant
erf. the world was Mary, of strong
sympathy, and with penetrative
powers little experienced or disci-
plined. Not accustomed to asking
herself questions, or to analyzing her

LEGEND OF JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE.

own moods, she could but wonder at
the strong hold John Levin had upon
her and the hold she certainly had
upon him.

His deep affection, and her own,
did not stand in doubt. She loved
him when she first saw him dripping
on her boat hook. And his eyes had
never ceased to center upon her from
that day to this. But now, when she
thought of actually fulfilling her
plighted word to marry, there was
the vision of her warning mother,
and there was a strange heart quak-
ing ; and she did not believe that
she should ever be his wife. No
uplifted finger out of the unseen
world could, however, disturb the
serenity of her deep, passionate love
for this strange man who had come
so recently from over the sea, to
whom she believed herself to be
allied as a friend if not a wife by
foreordaining heaven. She could at
this particular moment no more
argue and philosophize, and inquire
whether her love was preceded by
faith in the man, than she could
tell why the purpling east and the
hues of the roses in her garden grati-
fied her eye and made her heart
glow. Did she need to know much
about the chemical analysis. of the
sun in order to rejoice in his light ?

" Mr. Levin and I are so like and
yet so unlike," she said aloud in
talking with herself, "that we can
be of infinite help to each other. So,
indeed," she added slowly, weighing
every word, "unless there are deeps
upon deeps in his nature which I can
never fathom."

Concerning him who stood upon
the other end of the see-saw, which
Mary was now conscious that she
had erected in her heart, she said to

herself that she had always main-
tained friendliness, — friendliness, not
love. At times, indeed, a glow of
warmth had kindled in. her impet-
uous nature when she had been in
Ray m ond ' s presence.

" Had I not drawn John Levin out
of the sea, who could have foretold
what I might have said if Raymond
Foote had spoken to me in words of
fire and with heart leaping, as John
Levin did?"

Since Mary's imprudent caroling
with the birds and her early visit to
a prisoner whom she first knew when
she was two years old, she was sure
that Raymond Foote loved her in his
calm, undemonstrative way. But
how was it, she asked, that he who
was a sailor still, even in the pulpit,
could be so subdued and fearful, in
her presence ? Perhaps he loved her
too much to treat his affection with
that levity which he sometimes put
on, — for example, toward Hodgman.

CHAPTER VI.

"Are you here so early?" asked
Martha, touching Mary's dark tresses
with her ringer tips.

And they stood, with arms about
eacli other, gazing out over the
gleaming sea.

" Plow is it, Martha, that you can
marry so soon one whom you have
known for so short a time ? I under-
stand that you can love, but how can

vou ma" rv

? "

" It is fated that I should. And,
too, what is better, we are perfectly at
one. I do not now think of' my girl-
hood freedom, but the happy life
inside of a wedding ring."

" Unhappy am I, then, for I told
Mr. Levin that I would marry, but I
can never think of a definite day, or

LEGEND OF JOHN LEVIN AND MARY CLASSE.

month, or even year, when I will
do it. I love him, but, strange ly
enough, I love him as I would
another person, not as if he were
any part of my person. I think of
him as I would of a near relation,
just a^ I do of you, only infinitely
more so ; but I cannot think of him
as the other half of my own true self.
I love him dutifully, passionately,
and would lay down my life for
him." .

" But, Martha," she added, with
tears glistening in the rising sun,
''what would you do to-day, if you
did not have implicit faith in the doc-
tor, as the basis for your love to
repose upon? Perhaps at bottom
that 's why on my part I rebel at my
word given to Mr. Levin so hastily
and heartily. My love starts up
restlessly and almost flies away,
when I think of absolute!}' trusting
John Levin. If it were not so horri-
ble a thing to say, I should picture
myself to you as a creature fasci-
nated by him, charmed by his eyes,
from which I can never free myself,—
but I trust him no more than a bird
would a black snake. I know that
he loves me devotedly. But aside
from his love for me and his love for
himself, he has not, that I can dis-
cover, a particle of love for any other
being in the universe, unless a min-
gled half love and half dutiful respect
for his mother."

''Well, Man-, what do you want
of a lover who has a love for being,
as our minister says, a universal
love for all possible creatures in all
worlds? I 'in amply contented if the
doctor hates everybody except my-
self."

"Mary! Mary!" now called a
voice like a fog-horn, "Mary! why

do n't you come and fry them eels ? "
It was the voice of Skipper James
Glasse, returned from the Spanish
main. And Mary started to fly to
her father.

''Why, Mary, how do you do?"
eagerly asked the widow Angelica,
meeting Mary as she turned about.
"Can't you fry enough for four, — at
least one eel apiece ? I am getting
hungry."

"But you are fat enough," inter-
rupted Martha, "and oily enough,
and slippery enough, to get on with-
out hanging about James Glasse' s
eel-kettle at this time of da}". Come
over to the mountain ; and there fast
with me and my sisters three."

And the Mrs. Dr. Langdon, about
to be, thereupon undertook to march
off the widow, whose needle must fly
swiftly before the next neighing at
her door of the doctor's black horse.

"I guess you are satisfied now,"
said the widow to Mary, coming to a
stand-still for a moment and looking
back over her shoulder, "that what
I told you is true, that John Levin
was going to put a stop to your flirt-
ing with Raymond Foote by putting
him into jail. Why don't you get
married at once, and make an end of
it? He will, I trow, make you march
straight when you are once married.' '

CHAPTER VII.

Had Dr. Robert Langdon, when
he stood up to be married, been less
than four feet in circumference, it
would have been less noticeable that
he was less than five feet high.

"And Martha, too," the physician
had been careful beforehand to tell
John Levin, "has a remarkably well-
proportioned physique, — five feet two
by two feet five."

LEGEND OF fOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE.

This was, however, in the doctor's
eye, to which the balance and beauty
of his wife lacked nothing. Her true
height being five feet six. it never
would have done for her epigrainatic
husband to have described her chest
as six feet five, although she did
measure half that, when accoutered
for calling upon her neighbors.

Martha was truly magnificent, if
the etymological significance of the
adjective be noted; Langdon's let-
ter to Levin picturing her as having
blue eyes, high, arching brows, and
long lashes, not too thickly set ; with
features full and broad between eves

" A.

and mouth ; with nostrils adapted to
easy breathing ; a generous mouth
with fine lips, and a pointed chin ;
for a woman, very square shouldered
and deep chested ; her arms muscu-
lar, and hands and feet equal to a
good day's work without weariness.

"Who," confidentially asked Lang-
don of Levin at least once a^ week,
" ever saw so restful a face to gaze
upon, or one more fully informed by
light and love, by cheerful faith, nim-
ble wit, high courage, and reserved
power ? ' '

Indeed, after that wedding was
over, the doctor rarely talked about
the weather to John, but, instead of
a " Good morning," he would say
11 My bright-eyed wife says
cheery helpmeet says,"-
think so too."

It is but fair to add that the
rotundity of Dr. Langdon never in
the least detracted from his dig-
nity. Who of Martha's friends to
whom he was a stranger, could fail
to notice the size of his well-propor-
tioned head, adorned by short, curl-
ing jet-black hair and beard ; his
generous, intelligent features, marked

or ' ' my
1 and I

by penetration and apparent good
judgment ; his shoulders so power-
ful, and chest, so immense, as to
make his waist appear to be not
unusually large ; and his whole frame
made alive by his long, swinging,
sinewy arms, and quick-moving,
massive lower limbs ? How could
Martha, who never remarked upon
the personal appearance of her hus-
band, hurt take pride in a certain
delicacy of the doctor's hands and
feet, as iff his grandfathers in far-off
generations had not been obliged to
toil and tirade like common folk ?

What could be more beautiful than
the word~s of Martha, in her serene
old age asfter death had divided her
from her husband, — " We two were
always ir^on the same side, being one
and not -two so far as related to all
outside ourselves. "

As to ti'heir wedding garment^, the
doctor w,as always' so well dressed
that it was not easy to remember
what he wore. His face and words,
his personality, took off attention
from his clothing. Martha's raiment
was tidy if not tasteful ; her taste
having be-en made up for her by the
gaudy aneit tawdry widow Adipose.

But the. twain most noteworthy at
the wedding, were John Levin and
Mary Glas^se. With coal-black eyes,
deep set, and glowing like coals
when ki;..dled; long lashes; shaggy-
brows, feainging a prominent fore-
head ; bask black, and dressed v with
care ; a Ihighly-bridged, thin -nose,
with nostrils alive at every breath ;
a small, mobile mouth, with lips of
high color, and compressed 'when in
repose ; kvis smoothly-shaven lower
face not prominent but well rounded ;
small ears far set back ; of dark com-
plexion ; of agile limbs ; of powerful

LEGEND OF JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE.

framework, light, well-knit, and
finely proportioned ; a man so quick
motioned withal, as to carry the
impression of being always upon the
alert : so stood John Levin, — six feet
four. And Mary Glasse was so
nearly his image, as to be called by
others by the name he best loved,
"My Alter- Ego."

But he was at least thirty-five,
looking ten years younger ; and she
was eighteen, looking as mature if
not as old as he. She did not appear
to strangers to be lacking in experi-
ence ; and he looked so guileless
upon this wedding day, that no one
could have dreamed his life story.

There was no one who could keep
his eyes off John Levin and Mary
Glasse when they addressed each
other. Their faces were so animated
that, the blood came and went, and
every emotion rippled upon the sur-
face, so that even James Glasse said
that " looking at 'em "s like watehiir
the livin' sea."

Nothing could be more apparent
than their mutuai affection. With the
older, it was an intense passion, mas-
terful when in Mary's presence : but
her love was apparently tempered if
true, and there was sometimes a
shadow of distrust or withholding of
confidence in jest or earnest. Mary
kept her lover aloof, or played him
at will, as served her fancy. She
was a girl, the world was before her.
He was a man, and so much of the
world was behind him that he knew
his mind.

It cannot be said that the grooms-
man and bridesmaid used this wed-
ding occasion for paying their atten-
tions to each other in the hour set apart
for the doctor and Martha ; but they
were so attractive to every one who

set eyes upon them that none could
do otherwise than to watch them ;
and even-body said, who had seen
John Levin before, that there never
was a man more transformed by liis
love than John Levin ; who other-
wise was so cold, so undemonstra-
tive, so secretive, so unreadable, as
to be called a social iceberg, — unless,
now and then, it served him a good
turn to be affable.

And Tom Winibleton went so far
as to say, " I s'pose it sarves John
Levin some kin' of turn to make love
to Skipper Glasse's daughter. 'T aiiit
much money the skipper's got, but
there's the flakes and sixteen boat."

The wedding of course was no
more and no less hilarious than was
pleasing to Elder Perkins, the magis-
trate.

What a pity," said the doctor to
his bride, " that Raymond Foote, in-
stead of being here on this joyous
occasion, is chained to his bedpost
in jail."

" But he ought not to resist the
king," replied his loyal lady.

" The clerical jail-bird," quoth
Farmer Goadby, "can ill afford to
trifle with our royal governor."

,k But I did not tell you, Mr.
Levin," said Mar}- Glasse, "that my
conscience led me to consult the min-
ister more than once when I was in
Boston." And she looked archly for
the effect of her words.

" Yes, I heard about your serenad-
ing him in the small hours of the night,
when modest girls are asleep," inter-
posed the widow Angelica Adipose,
sharply, making sure that John
Levin should look at her .when she-
said it.

'* It is indeed a very serious mat-
ter, that has brought my shipmate to

LEGEND OF JOHN LEVIN ANB MARY GLASSE.

sorrow," gravely answered Mr.
Levin, with a slight flush stealing
over his dark features.

And the brown cheeks of Mary
Glasse glowed a little with strange
fires.

So ended the wedding at Peter
Dune's, at the foot of the crag, upon
the west of Norton's mountain.

CHAPTER VIII.

"Ah, Doctor." said Levin next
day, in Langdon's office, "I would
give all the world if I were fixed as
you are. But Mary will consent to
set no day ; she is restless, aggravat-
ing, untamable, and beautiful as a
thousand leagues of ocean. I am
tortured by her, but can no more
leave her than our planet can cease
to circle round the sun."

Dr. Langdon was one of those
beings who fancied that he knew
John Levin ; or that he might come
to know him. And he believed that
his illustrious patient (who had at
this time no particular ailment,
save that he was alwa\ s wanting to
see his doctor, chat with him, and
upon some pretense pay him large
fees,) imparted to him now and then
a tithe of information that could be
relied upon, as to the true nature of
John Levin ; and many were the
days whicli came and went before he
made up his mind that he knew abso-
lutely nothing about him.

For the present, the doctor believed
himself to be, to all intents and pur-
poses, his patient's peculiar and
confidential friend. It was probably
on this account that, surgeon as he
was, the doctor was always probing
John Levin's heart as if for a bullet.
But to all the doctor's suggestions,
whether interrogatory or dogmatic,

John Levin went rattling on, this
way or that, as if what he said was
complete answer ; and he did it in
tones so sincere as to pass unques-
tioned. And it was a long, long-
time before the doctor was led to
believe that Levin's social or confi-
dential talk was solely for his own
diversion lor the hour, and that noth-
ing certain could be known thereby
about his real opinions or emotions, —
that he might or might not be reveal-
ing his interior life.

Was there ever a man to whom it
was so amusing as to John Levin, to
pose in a thousand attitudes before
those whom he called his friends,
each confidential ; and in the most
secret maimer, tone, word, represent
himself to be what he was not ?

This served one important end.
There was much truth at bottom of
what he said ; his own true life was
perhaps unveiled in its most dreadful
secrets ; but so much that was not
true was ostensibly unveiled to
this or that one who fancied himself
Levin's most intimate friend, that the
narrator himself looked upon himself
simply as an ink fish, darkening all
waters around him and escaping
whence, "how, whither, he himself
could never tell.

Amid bis masterly mercantile tran-
sactions and professional triumphs,
which so astonished his contempora-
ries, Mr.. Levin so "diverted" his
mind by a mingling of lies and truth-
telling, deception and frankness, that
this •'aiisii.sement," as he called it
when talking to himself, smacked of
mental aberration.

But there was one thing that he
could by no act conceal, it was his
love for Mary Glasse, which became,
when he was thirty-five years old,

LEGEXD OF JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE

the mastering passion of his life ;
although, in all he said about it to
any one, he may, or he may not have
truthfully represented his own life.
Much of it must have been true ; and
much was certainly invented to please
the fancy of the hearer.

When, therefore, Dr. Laugdon
undertook to probe the heart of his
" friend," John Levin, for his secret,
as he would probe for a bullet endan-
gering life, the shipping merchant,
the lawyer, knew how to answer him.

"It's plain enough," replied the
doctor to Levin's assertion that
Mary would not marry him at any
definite time, "that you gravitate
toward Mary ; and that the centrifu-
gal forces of your soul are held in
check by the centripetal impellation
of your being toward hers. But if
she fails to be regulated by the prin-
ciples and laws which actuate all
true celestial bodies, she must in
time fail to put forth influences so
potent as now, and then the centrifu-
gal forces of your soul will impel you
to fly to some other center of attrac-
tion, — for example, to the widow
Adipose."

"Confound your science, Lang-
don ; and confound the widow. You
know me too well to trifle when I
need your help. You are married at
last, married by magic and triple
rings. There was a time in which I
thought I should make of you as
great a rake as myself; but now I
thank heaven that you were a better
man than I took you for. But what
am I to do ? You know me for bet-
ter and for worse, — for the worse
mostly.

" Xow I swear to you, Doctor, by
the red ring of Ulla, that Mary
Glasse has it in her power to change

my whole life, — to change my heart,
as the doctors of divinity say. and to
make me a new creature, as St. Paul-
says. You know how long it is
since I have believed in God, for
any certainty, but I have profound
faith in Mary Glasse. She is a
divinity to me. It is no more possi-
ble for me in her presence to think of
those passions which are most de-
grading than it is possible for me to
have evil thoughts in the presence of
my mother, — God lengthen her hon-
ored days."

" But John," said the surgeon, " I
do not understand that you are now
where you were a year ago in respect
to foolish courses of life."

'" I tell you, Doc, that I am under
the reign of natural law. I have
formed habits more powerful than
those forces which impel the sun. I
can no more change my currents of
thought and action than you can call
Orion out of the skies, or chain the
bear in his walk about the pole.

" Xow Mary Glasse, — hear me,
man, do not look so drowsy, man, —
Mary Glasse is so much of a true
divinity that she has changed my
whole habit of thought and life.
Her influence over me is miraculous.
But all this is only for such time as I
am with her, or when I ' have faith '
in her. When she puts me off, as to
our marriage, or goes to fooling with
Parson Foote — the powers of dark-
ness overtake him — then I straight-
way tumble to pieces, and all is over
with me till she is again ' gracious.' "

"Ah, I see," said the doctor,
" your divinity studies still influence
your phrases in the worship of your
goddess."

" I curse the divinity I used to
know, but no power can persuade me

LEGEND OE JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE

that there is not something divine in
Mar>' Glasse. I sometimes think the
God-head I finally lost at Hard wick
has reappeared in myriad forms.
Possibly, although it 's hard to think
it, yon yourself may be a fragment
of deity, and Martha too — God bless
her. But Mary Glasse," —

"Levin, if you don't stop this
' Mary Glasse,' ' Mary Glasse,' ' Mary
Glasse' repetition, I'll have her
arrested and hung for a witch, that I
will."

"Ah, man, but you are married.
I would that I could invite you to
my wedding. Let 's liquor."

After the toddy, John Levin left ;
and the doctor was slightly puzzled.
There was a slight insincerity in
Levin's later words, which made him
uncertain as to what else had been
said : " He 's the same old sea-dog,
I warrant."

CHAPTER IX.

No sooner had Mr. Levin left the
doctor's office than Myra, the maid,
came in : and the doctor told her to
be seated until he could find his
stump-puller. In the anguish of her
toothache she sat down upon the doc-
tor's new hat.

" What did you do that for? "

"I did not mean to," whimpered
the girl.

" Did not mean to ! What did you
do it for, then ? "

Myra hung her head and cried.

" You never did sit down upon my
hat before, what makes you com-
mence to form the deleterious habit
now? Can't you speak, girl?"

"I'm so sorry. I'll buy you
another one."

"Buy me another? You can't,
unless I give you the money, and do

you suppose I shall be such a fool as
to do that? But what's the odds?
You've spoilt this particular hat."
The doctor took it up, and looked at
it, and then tried to take the crush
out of it with his fist. " If you take
my money and purchase a new one,
you '11 make a cushion out of that
one before night, I wager. I never
saw such stupidity."

The doctor was now white with
rage. Myra trembled like a leaf.

Three rings were now placed upon
the doctor's shoulder ; Mvra be^an
to laugh hysterically, when she saw
her mistress's hand extended toward
her fuming, sputtering husband, with
a quiet, but determined air, as if she
was about to lift off a steaming tea-
kettle. The doctor, hardly feeling
the gentle pressure, turned himself
about in a slow and dignified man-
ner, and took his wife's hand, —

"What did I say. Martha ? "

ki Nothing my love, but I have just
prepared the confections you are so
fond of. And I was going to ask
you to go out into the garden with
me to taste the sweetmeats."

" Precede me, and I will come sub-
sequently."

"Not so. Will you take prece-
dence, as you always do, — when we
go to meeting, for instance? "

Stumping along a little ahead of
her like a fore-runner, as he com-
monly did upon the street, the doctor
went to the garden with - the confec-
tion cook.

" Do you know, my adorable one,
that your saline properties- have a
tendency to exercise a valuable con-
serving influence upon society, and
so, indirectly, upon the age? But
you will bear with me, my good
angel, if I say what it is not beeom-

LEGEND OF fOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE.

ing in a husband to say, that the salt
of the earth is improved by the addi-
tion of pepper. I could not love you
more if I should try ; but I should
esteem you more highly and hold
you in more lofty regard, if possible,
had you been endowed with a fiery, '
nay, a furious temper like mine."

" But you know that we 've agreed
to be opposites, so that what I lack
you '11 have, and what you lack I '11
have. I do not need, therefore, to be
fussy and particular and out of sorts
about small things : although I do
think that my good husband ought
to be spirited if things go wrong.''

"Yes, I had forgotten that we
were to be as unlike as possible, in
order that, as two halves made one,
we might present to the admiring
world of Juniper Point, a full-orbed
state of perfected matrimonial bliss."

'• I am so proud to be united to a
spirited, even if a peppery, family.
You've often told me that your
ancestors were of volcanic and earth-
quaky and hurricanic temperament.
I believe those were the adjectives."

"And I, on my part, am perfectly
hilarious upon my good fortune in
being allied to one of opposite tem-
perament. — one who can take me off
when I boil over."

11 I always think of you, my be-
loved physician, as I think of the
green, restful, wholesome world we
live upon, as having such qualities
that we can put up with storms now
and then, which, after all, help clear
the air."

"And I always think of you, as I
told John Levin, as being a genuine
goddess who has stepped out of the
world's golden age, with no particu-
lar studies, pursuits, learning, or
mission, but by nature having the

perfection of every grace which lends
a charm to life."

"And pray what did Mr. Levin
say, when you told him that ? "

" I don'tthiuk he appreciates you.
He went on, and just doted on Mary
Glasse. Xow I think that Mary
Glasse has nothing very uncommon
about her, that so great a man, as he
is, should run on so. John Levin is
a genius, I should think all the
women in the world would fall in
love with him. But Mary Glasse" —

" Why. Robert, Mary is far supe-
rior to me. Her endowments are
wonderful, I think. But I do not
see anything for a woman to run
after in John Levin, he can't stand
comparison for a moment with Ray-
mond Foote, not to mention my bub-
bling and tempestuous leach."

" We are indeed opposites, if that
be your mind as to John and Mary.
Let's drop the subject, and be at
one, upon at least one thing to-day."

11 Seriously, my dear, do you think
that John Levin expects that Mary
Glasse will ever marry him ? "

" Why not? She will, unless she
be daft.

" What makes you admire John
Levin io ? "

" How can I tell you off-hand? I
should have to write a book to tell
you a tithe of what 's admirable in
my friend. But, pray tell me, on
your part, if you know, how John
Levin came to be enamored of Mary
Glasse ? I never could find out."

"Raymond Foote introduced him
to Mary, when she rescued him from
the tide-wash. John Levin's body
would have been swept off by the
river under the sea if Mary had not
hooked him out. He was literally
caught upon her hook. Raymond

'■■ '■

7 S ESTHER'S DEFENCE.

Koote, less exhausted than Mr. Levin, hini, so John says. I don't fancy

helped himself out the brine, that so her. but I want him to be suited;

nearly pickled them both ; and he at and I wish you would try to per-

once introduced John to Man*." 'suade her."

"Very romantic. And, still, now 'There's Mary, coming out of

that she's got him, she won't marry the house, now."

. [to be continued.]

ESTHER'S DEFENCE, 1
By Emma E. Brown,

Since those far-off days when Mason came.

And Fernando Gorges of old-world fame

To found on Piscataqua's rock-bound shore

A " royal province " (not only in name !)

With its sure, safe harbor and bounteous store

Of nature's wealth in fish and game —

11 New Hampshire's Daughters,"' stanch and strong.

Have left their record in storv and soim-.

And we never tire to hear them told —

Those valiant deeds of the days of old,

When dangers threatened on every hand

The lives and homes of that little- band

Of pioneers — brave, patient, strong,

Unfading laurels to those belong

Who pushed their way through the pathless wood

Undaunted in faith and fortitude,

Till among the Granite Hills at length

Rose our little state in beauty and strength,

And, helping always a tireless band, —

Through the bye-gone years we see them stand,

New Hampshire's Daughters, stanch and strong,

Leaving their record in story and song.

There was Hannah Dustin and Molly Stark

And many another of shining mark.

But among the names that are handed down

From sire to son with their wide renown —

Among the many, I think of one

Who faced the enemy all alone ?

i Read before 4i New Hampshire's Daughters " at Hotel Vendome.

ESTHER'S DEFENCE. 79

A frail and slender woman, tkey said.

Was this Esther Jones with her clear, wise head,

But she always knew what, was best to do —

That rare, fine gift bestowed 011 the few !

And to Esther it was that every man

In the garrison came for the wisest plan

Of guiding the colony, day by day.

And keeping the savage tribes at bay —

For whatever she said they always knew

Was the best and the safest thing to do.

The planting, one time, had been long delayed.
Because of a treacherous Indian raid
And when, at last, it could safely be done
If they worked together till sett of the sun,
She bade them go and leave bier on guard
In the garrison fort, well bolted and barred.

So with loaded guns they had gone away —
Man, woman, and child, from the fort that day.
And Esther alone in the garrison stood,
Surrounded each side by the dense pine wood ;
The nearest house was miles aivay,
_And the savage tribes in ambnsh lay
Near the forest path, but she knew no fear —
This dauntless Esther who waited here !

The long, long day is nearing; its close,

When — hark ! — a wild shriek ! — and Esther knows

The wily foe at length have gtiessed

How weak is the fort ! She must do her best —

She must rally ail her wits to the front,

Eor 't is she alone who must bear the brunt

Of this savage raid — they are coming fast.

And she knows each moment may be her last.

But, undismayed, she challenges all
The murderous host, and her figure tall
Arrayed in her husband's coat and hat
Looks now from this loop-hole, now from that,
While with gun in hand they can hear her call
To Peter, to John, to Henry, to Paul,
And a host of others, as if there stood
Beside her a stalwart brotherhood
Of valiant warriors ! — With puzzled mien
The Indians pause — and while they wait,
As if hypnotized, there by the gate,

THE SUNSET LAND.

A troop of well-armed men is seen
Hemming them in on every side,:
While a panic seizes them far and wide !

The planting was over ere set of the sun,

And an easy victory now is won,

Brave Esther Jones ! — till the day was done

Alone she had held the fort I Among

New Hampshire's Daughters, stanch and strong,

Let her name be known in story and song.

®=r^

,c~^>

s*«*«sr^

THE SUNSET LAND,
i?/ Beta Chapi)i .

Far away o'er the hills lies the sunset clime

That in vision we sometimes behold ;
That in fancy we build or weave into rhyme

When the clouds are all burnished with gold.

From those radiant hills that afar off extend,
From those plains and blossonring vales.

Sweet odors, the incense of flowers, ascend,
And are wafted along on the giles.

There the gayest of creatures of bird-kind throng,

In the hues of the rainbow arrayed ;
And they fill all the valleys and meadows with song,

Every forest and evergreen guide.

There the soft, clear streams unmurmuring flow

Through meads, over crystalline sand ;
And the rose-hued skies are mirrored below —
• The glittering skies of the sunset land.

Oh, the sunset land is brighter titan this
Where we live, where we labor, and die ;

' Tis a foregleam, perhaps, of the bright world of blis
Where the purified dwell upon high.

i p. r-r=-- -

Se-^y /: ^w

SkK

.W /

Hilltop, X. H., Nov

-,189;

My " Mentor " : Can I not imag-

Hilltop, Nov. — , 1895.
My dear Fellow : I hope you have n' t
forgotten that you gave your promise last
summer to make one of our party on Thanks-
giving day. I write to remind you that we
have not forgotten, and hope you will not
disappoint us. There will be only a small

ine your expression when the date of party of us, and we shall keep our Thanks-

this letter meets your eye? Don't I

know how scorn scintillates from

every part of your majestic being ?

Ah, but too well! ''And so," you

say, "you are back there again,

singeing your wings, like a foolish

moth, in the light that probably does

not burn for you at all." Even so,

my dear boy, but with all due respect

giving very quietly. Come up into the hills
and see what the country is like in winter.
Yon will find it pretty cold, but I can assure
you of a warm welcome from all.
Faithfully yours,

R. Gray.

Yesterday morning found me en
route for Hilltop. What did I under-
stand vou to sav ? Was it not a fine

to your intellect, I would call your opportunity for a "poor but deserv-

attention to the fact that you say
"probably,'' and I propose to give
myself the benefit of the doubt.

In the mean time, here I am, and
I have been listening this evening to
a story that has not left me in a par-
ticularly somnolent mood, hence this
letter, though it is already past
midnight. I am going to tell you
the story, but in deference to your
orderly habits, I will begin properlv,

by „

ing" landscape painter? Why not
kindly regard it purely in the light
of a business trip? Remember that
I have never been in the country in
America except in summer, and
could get some hints on tints and
coloring- that might be invaluable to
me m working up my academy
picture.

I do n't propose to gratify you by
informing you at what unearthly

brief resume of some hour the train left, but the sun had

of the causes (apparent) of my being not melted the frost on the platforms

here. Prominent among them, is the and car rails. Men hurried past with

following letter, which I received a their shoulders drawn up, and their

few days ago : hands in their pockets; boys didn't

THE DOCTOR'S THANKSGIVING STORY.

beset you for a "shine," and news-
boys stamped their feet and blew
tlieir cold fingers. The passengers
who came hurrying: in, all looked
cold and discontented I noticed.
Strange, I thought ! I had been
repeatedly told by anxious friends
that it was a strange time to go into
the country on a sketching trip, and
I felt the exultation of one who has
overcome all unworthy obstacles,
and triumphantly has his own way
in spite of them ; and as the train
steamed rapidly out of town and into
the open country, I leaned forward
and watched the long series of pic-
tures, that seemed to flit past the
meadows, with a sense of keen
enjoyment that made me smile at
myself it was so boyish.

It was all so strangely different
from anything I had ever seen, —
like a series of pale sketches in
sepia after brilliant paintings, yet it
was very* beautiful, and there was
color here too, but in softened, sober
shades. The frost lay thick and
white along the fences and across
the level fields ; the trees stood bare
and gray, with the infinitely deli-
cate tracery of their branches outlined
clearly against the pale sky. Every-
thing looked cold, — even the sunshine
seemed thin and pale and ineffect-
ual, and presently disappeared alto-
gether behind a film of gray cloud,
that spread gradually over all the
sky.

A tall man, in a gray coat, re-
marked in a cynical voice, as if crea-
tion in general, and the passengers
in particular, were responsible for
the fact, that it " was goin' to snow
before night." And in an hour or
two the snow began to fall ; a few
large flakes drifted down in a leis-

urely, purposeless way, and a little
later others came with a little flurry
at first, then falling fast and steadily
in a determined, businesslike way
that soon showed substantial results.
The fences put on ermine, and every
common tree and bush and shrub
was transfigured ; the telegraph lines
beside the track were long ropes of
eider down, and the mountains,
which we were fast approaching,
were all misted with white, thin and
lovely as a bridal veil.

Passengers came in from time to
time powdered thickly with the soft,
cold particles, and looking as if that
were the last straw added to their
accumulated load of discomforts. I
have noticed that the only people
who appreciate discomforts, which
happen at the same time to be pic-
turesque, are those to whom the nov-
elty compensates for the inconven-
ience. Nevertheless, I enjoyed
with unflagging interest the beauti-
ful transformations which were tak-
ing place before my very eyes, until
it grew too dark to see.

Not until then did I remember that
I had a stage-ride of some four or five
miles to take at the end of my rail-
way journey, and begin to appreciate
my fellow-travellers' objections to the
picturesque. But I had roughed it
too much in my various sketching
trips to be much dismayed by the
prospect, and, indeed, I had not
time, for the conductor threw open
the door, at that point in my reflec-
tions, with a slam that admitted a
good deal of cold air and a small
avalanche of snow, as well as him-
self, and called the name of a town,
which by courtesy we accepted as
English, but which might as well
have been Hindostanee, for all evi-

THE DOCTOR'S THANKSGIVING STORY.

dence our ears gave to the contrary.
But, as the announcement was ac-
companied by a jerk of the head in
in}* direction, and the beckoning of
a grimy finger, both of which were
intelligible, I picked up my grip,
turned up the collar of my coat, and
prepared to face the outside world,
which seemed to be in a very bad
temper just then, judging from visi-
ble evidences.

Mv usual i-ood fortune did not
desert me, however, for the first per-
son whom I encountered was the
stage- driver, who had, evidently,
been instructed to look out for me,
for he inquired at once " Be you the
feller that's goin' to Dr. Gray's?"

I assure'! him of my identity with
that "feller," and was piloted across
a platform to a long, low vehicle, —
evidently the stage, — and a very com-
fortable conveyance it was too.

Apparently he expected no other
passengers, for we started at once,
and we went on and on, I have no
idea how far or how long, for the
storm seemed to grow thicker every
moment, and through the blinding
drift of flakes I could see only a long,
white opening, between dark, snow-
laden trees, and, now and then, a
light from a farm-house window. By-
and-by one shone out, bright and
clear, high above the others, and the
driver turned to me, and pointed
with his whip, — "There's Hilltop,"
he said briefly.

It was an entirely superfluous piece
of information, for I had been watch-
ing it for five minutes, — trust the
" moth " to find his light !

A little later we drove up at the
door of what seemed the white ghost
of a house, but a ghost with the
familiar outlines I remembered so

well. The door was thrown open at
once, and Rex ran down the steps to
meet me, and the promise of a warm
welcome from all was fully made
good. However, as this cannot be of
interest, I will pass very briefly over
what followed — merely remarking
that to an ordinary mortal, like my-
self, it was thoroughly delightful.

Supper over, we adjourned to the
sitting-room, and gathered round the
large, open wood- fire for a cosy,
social evening. It seemed that I
was the only one of some half-dozen
invited guests who had had the cour-
age to face the storm. I readily
fongave their lack of perseverance,
audi mentally blessed the storm as I
glamced around our snug little circle.

I had brought along a portfolio of
Florida sketches I made last winter,
intending to finish up two or three of
the best for Mrs. Gray and Virginia,
audi naturally the conversation turned
011 Florida, and Dr. Gray asked,
apnopos of a little sketch of the pine
banrens, if I had ever witnessed a
forest fire on the pine lands. I re-
plied in the negative, and expressed
a regret that I had failed to see what
I bad so often heard about while I
was there, and he answered quickly
" Xever regret it, but thank God
you: were spared the sight. You
have no idea of the terrible, irresist-
ible might of such a fire or the speed
with which it travels. It is more
fiendish, more awful and devilish
than anything I ever saw."

He spoke with strong feeling, and
I fancied that Mrs. Gray grew a
little pale. There was a moment's
silence, and then he turned to his
wife, — "Mary, shall I tell him what
happened fifteen years ago to-day? "
She assented a little reluctantly I

s 4

THE DOCTOR'S THANKSGIVING STORY.

fancied, and he seemed in no haste
to begin, but drew his chair a little
more into the shadow, and sat
silently stroking his beard and gaz-
ing into the fire.

11 You may not know," he said at
length, "that my wife is southern-
born, but thereon hinges my story,

to the south again after the war was
over.

" We were married, and I began
practice in her native town. During
the years we remained In the south
we frequently passed the winter
months on a little plantation we
owned in the Florida pine lands, and

■ \

■\4

■ >4

} '■'-

■
■ ■

■ •

•v-

v->-

as it was the cause of many years of
our early married life being spent in
the south. Her home was in Vir-
ginia, and the regiment of northern
soldiers in which I went as surgeon,
was quartered for many weeks near
her father's plantation. During that
time I learned many things which it
is, perhaps, needless to enumerate —
most people learn them sooner or
later — but which caused me to return

it was while we were there that I
became acquainted with this story
which I am going to relate to you, —
in fact, this is the anniversary of the
day on which it happened.

"Fifteen years ago this morning,
two children, — a little girl of four
years, and the colored girl who had
care of her, and who was called Sip,
partly on account of her unusual
blackness, and partly as a convenient

THE DOCTOR'S THANKSGIVING STORY.

shortening of her proper name, started
out to walk across the pine lands to
a plantation about two or three miles
distant.

" Sip had' been sent on an errand ,
and, as usual, had begged to take
the child with her. Permission had
been readily granted, for Sip was
always careful of her, and there
existed between the two that strong
affection so often seen in the south
between black and white, but which
always seems so incomprehensible to
northern understanding.

" So the two had started out, hand
in hand, till the baby feet grew tired,
and Sip lifted her in her strong young
arms, and beguiled the time by tel-
ling stories. The child never tired
of Sip's stories, and Sip, apparently,
never tired of telling them, or of sing-
ing the old plantation songs, in her
weird, mournful voice, keeping time
with her bare, black feet, in a queer,
half-dancing step, which was the
baby's special delight. So the time
went quickly, and when Sip judged
that about half the distance had been
passed, they both sat down beneath
a large pine and shared the luncheon
Sip had carried in a tin pail, hung
across her arm.

"The moments slipped by unheed-
ed, the sun climbed higher and higher,
and a strong westerly breeze began
to blow. By and by Sip became
aware of a strange sound that made
itself heard above the soft chant of
the pines. — a sound that made her
start up suddenly, with a wild look
of terror on her face, and strain her
eyes anxiously in the direction from
which they had come.

"Nothing was to be seen but the
level sweep of the pine lands, covered
with the tall, waving, brown grass,

flecked here and there with wild
flowers, and golden with the sun-
beams that flickered through the
pine boughs; overhead, the sky was
as blue as only southern skies can
be, with a single soft, dark cloud
showing its edges above the tree-
tops in the west.

"Sip watched it a moment, her dark
face growing strangely set and gray
about the lips. She knew that the
dark cloud, rising higher and higher
above the tree-tops, meant that a
fiire was sweeping across the pine
lands, blown directly towards them
by the wind. She knew the rapidity
with which such fires travel, and had
comprehended their danger in an in-
stant. To reach home was impossi-
ble, for the fire would cut them off —
the faint, distant roar was growing
more distinct every moment. She
must go on, and quickly.

a She caught the baby in her arms,
and started down the path towards
the distant plantation. You know
how impossible it seems to run on
the pine barrens, where the deep
san'.d and the smooth, wiry grass are
equally treacherous footing, but Sip
rani with all the speed of which she
was capable, the thought of- their
awful danger nerving every muscle
to do its utmost.

ui On and on she ran, her breath com-
ing in deep, heavy gasps with the
terrible effort she was making, but
she dared not stop even for a mo-
ment, for the deep, ominous roar of
the fire grew more and more distinct
every instant. Now and then a heavy
fall told Sip's practised ears that
some giant pine had fallen before the
resistless might of the fire.

"The baby had grown strangely
quiet, and clung silently to the girl's

THE DOCTORS THANKSGIVING STORY.

neck, with her face turned backward
towards the strange sound, which she
understood only as a half compre-
hended danger. Sip's efforts were
becoming ever}' moment more pain-
ful. She staggered as she ran, and
little flecks of foam stood on her
lips, but still she kept on. Sud-
denly the child cried out sharply,
' Oh, Sippy, the trees are afire ! '

" Sip stopped running for a moment,
and, leaning, heavily against a tree,

roots, with the earth still clinging to
them, had been left. Between that
and the advancing fire was an old
lumber road, its furrows worn deep
into the soft ground by the heavy
logs, the grass trampled down and
destroyed by the plodding feet of
the mule teams.

k * In a moment Sip remembered the
fire guards the orange growers plough
around their groves, and her eyes
brightened with a gleam of hope :

\- —

" i WT-

.»«t (teu

looked back. Yes, there was the
fire; she could see the flames now
in the distance, and the smoke was
thickening around them fast. The
child clung to her neck with low,
frightened sobs, her eyes fixed on the
fire. Sip looked around her despair-
ingly — was there nothing she could
do — nothing?

"A few rods ahead of her, at a
little distance from the path, an im-
mense pine had blown down, from
which the trunk had been cut away,
but the huge mass of upturned

here was her fire guard! It was her
only chance — could she do it? She
must! She clasped the little form
closer, and ran on, murmuring husk-
ily, ' Doan' cry, Baby, Sippy's g'wine
tek ca'h ob yoV

" Behind the roots of the pine was
a large cavity, half filled with loose
earth ; Sip hastily wrapped the child
in an old woollen shawl she wore,
and placed her where the roots of
the tree would shelter her as much
as possible from the heat, and fell
to work. Somehow, in all that ter-

THE DOCTOR- S THAXKSGIITNG STORY.

riblc flight, Sip had clung to the tin
pail she had carried slipped upon her
arm, and she used it now with an
energy born of her despair, scooping
out the loose sand from the cavity
behind the roots of the tree and scat-
tering it over the scant}' grass that
grew between them and the old road.
Soon she had covered even* inch of
it with the moist sand, and she con-
tented herself with throwing the rest
in a long, irregular heap on one side
of the cavity, not daring to take time
to carry it further.

" The baby crouched in the old
shawl sobbing pitifully, but still with
her eyes turned toward Sip with a
beautiful trust in her promise to take
care of her. The girl glanced at her
now and then as she worked, and
her dark face grew more set. and
there was a terrible tightening in her
parched throat, — what if she couldn't
save her after all, when she trusted
her so ?

11 She bent to her task desperately.
The smoke grew thicker, and little
tongues of flames were creeping
through the tall grass beyond the
road with a faint, hissing noise, like
her}- serpents. Sip dared wait no
longer ; she held out her arms to the
child, who crept into them with a
confidence that went to the girl's
heart, and for a moment she held
her close, and tried to smile as she
murmured again, ' Sippy's g'wine
tek ca'h ob her baby ; ' then wrapped
her closely in the old shawl and laid
her in the cavity as far back as pos-
sible under the roots of the tree, and
half covered her with loose sand, and
fell to work again.

"The heat was terrible, for the
fire was burning close to the other
side of the old road now, lapping up

the long grass, and swinging in
fiery streamers from the gray moss on
the branches of the trees. Again
and again it caught in the grass,
lying between the road and the up-
turned tree, blown across by the
treacherous wind, and again and
again Sip choked it with sand and
trampled it out with her bare, black
feet, hardly conscious of the pain in
the terrible struggle for life.

" She could hear the baby sobbing
sometimes when the dreadful roar
subsided for a moment, and once a
few words of the little prayer Sip
had heard her say so many times in
the nursery at home, reached the
girl's ears, coupled with her own
name, — 'and God bless Sippy,' the
baby voice said, but the rest was
drowned in the fierce, hungry roar
of the fire.

"After a while, — Sip never knew
how long,- — she fancied the heat grew
a little less intense. She raised her
head ; the smoke seemed to be lifting
a little, and it was not so difficult to
breathe. She felt something cool
and moist on her cheek, and stretched
out her hands eagerly, — yes, thank
God ! it was rain, — one of those swift
showers that so often follow in the
wake of such a fire. The wind had
changed too, as the shower came on,
and began to blow from the south-
east. The fire hissed angrily beneath
the lash of the rain, but crept back
slowly and swept sullenly away in
the path of the wind.

" Back to the west, over the path
they had come in the. morning, all
was blackened and smoking, and
hundreds of trees and stumps were
still burning, but the danger was past.

"Sip straightened herself slowly,
and pressed her hands against her

THE DOCTOR'S THANKSGIVING STORY.

aching eyes; the hands were blis-
tered, so was her face, and the bare
feet were dreadfully burned. Her
head felt strangely dizzy and con-
fused ; she staggered blindly back
to the cavity where the baby lay, and
stretched out her hands, unable for
the moment to speak.

"The child crept out to meet her, —
a pitiful little figure, with smoke-
blackened face, and the old woolen
shawl drenched by the rain, clinging
around her, but safe, — no shining
curl of the dear little head was in-
jured, i Sip made sure of that, pas-
sing her hand over the soft hair and
the little shoulders from which she
had torn the old shawl, almost as if
she doubted the evidence of the poor
aching eyes. Then she sank heavily
down, half leaning against the huge
roots of the old tree, and the tall
trees, with their blackened, smoking
tops, seemed to reel suddenly, the
sky grew strangely dark, and the air
was full of a rushing sound like fall-
ing water; Sip's head fell forward
lifelessly, and she lost all conscious-
ness.

"You can perhaps better imagine
than I can describe, what had been
taking place at the house in the
meantime. I was there, and I shall
never forget it, but I cannot tell you
the awful, sickening sense of utter
helplessness with which we watched
that cloud of black smoke, and lis-
tened to the fierce, hungry roar of
the fire, and realized how powerless
we were to do anything but wait —
we dared not think what that waiting
might mean."

The doctor's voice had grown very
husky, and he paused a moment and
passed his hand furtively across his
eyes before he continued his story.

" I urged, my horse down the smok-
ing road as soon as it was passable,
and found them there by the old tree,
both unconscious, and both so cov-
ered with smoke that for a moment
my heart stood still until I had as-
sured myself that they were still liv-
ing. The baby, frightened by the
girl's strange silence, had crept as
closely to her as possible, and sobbed
herself to sleep with her arms clasped
around Sip's neck. The girl's poor,
burned hand still clung protectingly
to the baby's little gown — faithful
black heart, true to the last ! "

Again the doctor paused a moment,
then turned towards me, trying to
speak lightly, "So we carried them
home across the blackened pine lands,
and long weeks of tender care and
nursing healed Sip's dreadful burns.
That's all my story," he added, "and
the clock points to twelve."

"But," I exclaimed, "the black
girl — I hope the family rewarded her
faithfulness ! "

He smiled a little as he bent down
to stir the fire. "I don't think she
wished to be rewarded/' he said soft-
ly, " she only wanted to live near her
nursling. Is it possible you have
not guessed that the black girl is our
own Mississippi, who waited on you
to-night at supper, and the baby —
was Virginia? "

No, I had not guessed it, and for
a moment I was speechless with an
emotion I could not analyze ; there
was a strange, tingling sensation
about my eyes, and a tightening in
my throat that would not .let me
speak. Hardly conscious of what I
did, I turned to Virginia and, with-
out a word, held out my hand. She
placed hers in it silently, and I said,
in a voice that surprised myself, it

WAHLSPRUECHE" FOR THE NEW YEAR.

was so unlike my own. "God bless my dear Mentor, good bye. Come

Mississippi!" and every voice an- and singe your rusty wings in the

swered, "Amen." light that burns for me.

It is sunrise, and Thanksgiving Yours,

■daw and mv story is ended ; and, so. Tklemachus.

W S W+ U^^VF "w^^ _T wra

"lf1£ .;";-'*£<

1 WAHLSPRUCHE " FOR THE NEW YEAR.

[From the German.]

By Mrs. Ellen M. Mason.

It were a vain and worse than useless folly,
To blench while on the moving wheel of Time ;
Swift-winged from hence, it onward bears the hours;
Old things disappear, and ail new things are ours i

—Schiller.

Man, deride thou not the Devil,
Only short is the life here,
And the everlasting Torment
Is no folk-tale born of fear.

Man, pay up also all thy debts,
Somewhat long is the life here,
And thou wilt still have to borrow
As thou borrow' st ev'ry year!

■Heine.

W' ~w.

W-:

Conducted by Fred Cowing, State Superm&endent of Public Instruction.

STATE CERTIFICATION OF TEACHERS,
By Dr. C. C. Rounds., Plymouth.

The present tendency in school ad-
ministration is to larger educational
units. We have recently passed from
the district to the town. Tn some
states, for administrative purposes, the
unit is the county, of which in the east
altogether too little account is made,
and the opinion is gaining ground that
the educational functions of the state
should be enlarged. There is no ground
for doubt but that the standard of qual-
ification for teaching should be uniform
at least throughout the state. This,
however, should be considered but as a
stepping to a further advance if teach-
ing is to become a profession as law,
medicine, engineering, are professions.
A standard should be set by the teach-
ers themselves, rigid terms of admission
to the profession should be prescribed,
and one proving himself able to com-
ply with all the requirements should be
considered everywhere entitled to recog-
nition as a teacher.

Educational societies, like the Peda-

1 Read before the New Hampshire State

gogk~al Society of Maine, which re-
quires for admission a certain standard
of scholarship and a certain period of
expedience in teaching — two years for
the ssecond grade and ten years for the
first grade of membership— could so
conduct tests for admission that their
certificates of membership would be
most authoritative evidence of profes-
sional standing. But as yet this pros-
pect i s below our horizon, and we must
advance as directly as may be towards
our first goal, — state uniformity to be
secured by state examination. I con-
sider the agencies, the standards, the
tnetfrmds, for these examinations.

Th.e agency may be the state super-
intendent of public instruction, a spe-
cial (examining board, or a state board
of education when such board exists.
Any state board of education should be
so constituted that its decisions shall
carry the authority of experts, and that
withun it the various phases and inter-
ests of public education shall be ade-

Teachers* Association, November 2, 1S95.

ED UCA TIOXAL DEPAR TMENT,

qyately represented. It should he en-
tirely free from political control in its
appointment and in its conduct of bus-
iness.

If the examination be. as in Ohio,
by a special examining board, it would
naturally be an examination by ex-
perts.

If the work of examination and cer-
tification is to be conducted by the de-
partment of education of the state, a
large expense must be provided for.
The results will be amply worth the
price.

Times and places for examination
should be announced frequent enough
and numerous enough to meet all rea-
sonable demands. The scope and
character of the examinations should
be announced long enough beforehand
to enable candidates to consider the
matter deliberately, as is now done in
regard to examinations, for admission
to college. Information as to books
for use, and as to modes of preparation,
should be given. The papers set may
not be identical in matter but they
should be uniform in general require-
ment. Each examination should be con-
ducted by an expert, and the papers
should be critically examined. The
plan followed in Canada of having the
papers examined by experts in the
various subjects, usually by professors
in college, is an admirable one.

Certificates granted should be graded
as to range of examination, not as to
length of validity. A one year's physi-
cian would receive little credit, why
should a one year's teacher receive
more ?

Examinations should cover the range
of the work required of the teacher,
and should be written, oral, or prac-
tical. The written examination should
-be planned, not to test the candidate's

range of acquirement, but. rather, his
style of thought, his mental grip, and
those not succeeding in this should not
be admitted to the oral examination.

The oral examination should be
adapted to test the range of attainment
or the personality of the candidate and
his readiness of resource.

The practical examination should be
planned to show, so far as examination
can show, the practical efficiency of the
candidate.

The elementary examination must of
necessity be made simple. The certifi-
cate of the elementary grade must be
presented as a condition preliminary
for examination for advanced examina-
tions. In all cases the most satisfac-
tory evidences of character must be re-
quired.

For the elementary or third grade
certificate the candidate should pass an
examination in common school studies,
with the elements of natural science.
The questions should be few but com-
prehensive, and such as will test the
reflective power of the candidate. The
oral examination will supplement the
written, and enter more into detail.

The professional examination for this
grade of certificate should not be severe,
but should require clear general state-
ments regarding methods of conducting
recitations, and the organization and
management of the school.

For the second grade of certificate
the examination should also be oral and
wriiten, and should include the English
studies of a high school course,. and a
special certificate should be given for
knowledge of a foreign language. This
examination should include psychology
and ethics, drawing, and the elements
of vocal music.

The professional examination for this
grade should include historv of educa-

Sly

A7-;

HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY

Hon, methods of teaching, genera! prin-
ciples of pedagogy, and the organization
and management of schools.

For admission, to the examination for
the first grade certificate the candidate
should present certificates for the two
lower grades, as these must attest his
scholarship in the various branches.
The examination will consist of several
parts.

i. A paper upon some subject of
elementary instruction.

2. A paper upon some topic selected
from psychology Or ethics.

3. The examination, discussion, and
marking of an examination paper writ-
ten by a pupil.

4. The criticism and oral discussion
of a drawing by a pupil.

5. The statement, written or oral, of
the treatment to be adopted in some
case, of school discipline.

6. The writing of the plan of a les-
son, and the giving of the lesson to a
class of pupils of the grade selected by
the candidate, twentv-four hours notice

being given to the candidate of the
subject selected.

At first it might be necessary to
grant some certificates as now on mere
scholarship, and that of a grade not
high, but such certificates should be
for one year only and not renewed.

I recently questioned thirty-nine in-
telligent young women who had been
pupils in the ungraded schools, in
regard to the character of the instruc-
tion which they had received therein.
I asked them to class as good teachers
all those whom they, acting as exam-
iners, would be willing to certificate for
teaching schools which their own broth-
ers and sisters were to attend. Of
these five stated that they had in these
schools only one good teacher ; thirteen
(one third the whole number"), only two :
ten, only three; twenty-eight of the
thirty-nine had had only one to three
good teachers in the ungraded school.

These thirty-nine young women rep-
resented nearly as many towns. Verily
these things ought not to be.

CHARLES CARROLL CHASE.

Charles Carroll Chase was born in Hopkinton September 18, 1829, being the
youngest son of Hon. Horace Chase. His life, since early manhood, was spent in
Chicago, 111., where he died, December 4, of neuralgia of the heart, after a short
illness, at the age of 66 years and 3 months. In his death Chicago lost one of its
oldest residents. He entered the business life of that city the day following his
arrival, in May, 185 1, as assistant to the city clerk, continuing in that office until
1852, when he resigned to accept the position of bookkeeper in the Exchange

NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY. 93

bank of H. A. Tucker & Co. The city, during those years, was building rapidly,
and capable business men were ever in demaaad. In 1S54 Mr. Chase was chosen
secretary and treasurer of the Chicago Hide and Leather company, remaining a
faithful, efficient officer in this company for eight years and leaving it to accept
the position of chief clerk in the city comptroller's office, where he remained until
February, 187c. Five years previous to this date he was chosen school agent by
the board of education, which position he he'id at the time of his death, making-
thirty years of service to the city. In this capacity he handled many millions of
dollars, performing his duties satisfactorily through all the changes of adminis-
tration. He was a witness to the growth of the city, with unusual opportunities
for personal observation through his positiom. When first appointed he used to
carry his money in a tin box, the monthly payments then amounting to about
$12,000. At the present time the teachers are paid by check, and the monthly
pay-roll is about $380,000. In 1S70 he joine/d. with his two brothers, Samuel 1>.,
and Horace G. Chase, in forming the firm <adi Chase Brothers, engaging in the
abstract business. In their hands rested the: abstracts of all the property in the
city of Chicago. The full importance of this: trust was not fully realized until the
great fire swept all records of real estate awa.y. It was by the greatest effort and
untiring watchfulness that these valuable records were preserved during the des-
truction and confusion consequent upon sucKn a disastrous fire. For weeks these
books were guarded, — until order was brought out of the chaos, — at the home of
Mr. Chase, in Lakeview. When the firm off Chase Brothers consolidated with
several others into the Title Guarantee and Trust company. Mr. Chase retained an
interest in the business. Since 1S75 he has, in addition to his duties as financial
agent of the school board, carried on a private business as a real estate and loan
agent, representing the business interests of imany men both east and west. He
was ever faithful, and acted for others as though it were a personal matter. His
two sons by his first marriage are young business men in Chicago. He leaves a
widow and two young daughters. The latter group came to Hopkinton this
summer, as has been their custom, and his last birthday was spent with his aged
mother under the home roof. His love for his native state increased as the years
rolled by. He came and went, as one who kmew the welcome that awaited him
wherever his genial face was seen. Warm o£ heart, noble of impulse, he was a
man one might be proud to call a friend. Chicago papers speak of him as "a
good citizeh, whose record for honesty and fidelity to his important trusts was
never challenged or criticized."

COL. S. A. WHITFIELD.

Col. Smith A. Whitfield died at Chicago December 2. He was a native of
Francestown, born March 24, 1844. and enlisted as a private in the Second New
Hampshire in 1S61. Rising rapidly through all grades he became a lieutenant-
colonel at 19. After the war he engaged in the internal revenue service as inspec-
tor, deputy collector, and agent, winning much renown and undergoing many thrill-
ing adventures in the course of a three years contest with the "moonshiners" of
Kentucky. In 1880 he was made assistant postmaster of Cincinnati, and in 1882
postmaster. At the expiration of his term fee became a member of the board of

94 NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY.

public artairs of that city. President Harrison appointed him second assistant
postmaster-general in 1SS9 and in 1890 he was nominated fcr the office of first
assistant, made vacant by the resignation of J. S. Clarkson. In these capacities
Colonel Whitfield added to his reputation as a faithful and efficient public official.

COL. J. D. H OS LEV.

Col. Jewett D. Hosiey. a native of Hillsborough, died at West Lebanon Decem-
ber S at the age of 75 years. He was educated at Hancock academy and at pri-
vate schools. Engaging in lumbering until 1847, * n tnat vear ne was appointed
superintendent of the track laying of the Northern railroad. Upon the comple-
tion of that work he became superintendent of the road's western terminus with
headquarters at West Lebanon, which position he retained until three years ago.
Colonel Hosiey was many times the candidate of the Democratic party for con-
gressman and minor offices. He was one year selectman of the town, and served
as postmaster under Presidents Pierce and Buchanan. He was a colonel of the
Twenty-sixth regiment. New Hampshire militia, and a trustee of Tilden ladies'

seminary from 1S56.

CHARLES A. CROCKER.

Captain Charles A. Crooker was born at Richmond in 18 19 and died at New

Bedford, Mass., December 14. Pie shipped on a whaling voyage when a boy and

continued to follow the seas until the outbreak of the Civil War, rising to the

position of master. He served with distinction in the war and in 1S65 was

appointed to the command of the fourth division of the Potomac flotilla, assisting

in this capacity in the capture of Wilkes Booth. In 1873 he was the only man

who would consent to take charge of the small-pox hospital at Clark's Point during

the epidemic.

DR. LUTHER PATTEE.

Dr. Luther Pattee was born in Warner December 1, 1831, and studied medicine
with Dr. Leonard Eaton of that town and Dr. Oilman Kimball of Lowell, Mass.
He attended lectures at Harvard university and the medical schools at Pittsheld,
Mass., and Woodstock, Yt., graduating from the latter in 1S52. He practised his
profession in Candia, Wolfeborough. Boston, and since 1863 in Manchester. He
was renowned as a surgeon and entirely devoted to his profession, overwork being
one of the causes of his death, which occurred at Manchester December 2.

JACOB TAYLOR.
Jacob Taylor, the oldest person in Weare, c'ed December 7. He was born in
Stoddard January 10, 1797, and resided there until 1868 when he removed to
Weare. He was a lifelong Democrat, voting at every election from 18 18 until last
fall, and had held many offices, among them moderator in Stoddard eight years,
chairman of selectmen eighteen years, representative eight years, state senator
two years, road commissioner for Cheshire county two terms. He is survived by a
son, a daughter, fifteen grandchildren and eleven great-grandchildren.

BRICE S. EVAN'S.
Brice S. Evans was born at Allenstown in September, 1821. When 17 years of
^ge he went to work in a Lowell cotton mill and a year later opened a small dry

NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY. 95

goods store on Hanover street. Boston. In 1S50 he entered the real estate bus-
iness and had since continued prominently in it, being considered an expert in
real estate values. Mr. Evans was a leader in church and charitable work but
had never sought public office. He died December 5, leaving eight children.
He was the promoter of the annual Allenstown grove meetings.

ALEXANDER M. WILKINS.
Alexander McCauley YVilkins was born February 25, 1S06, at Merrimack, and
died there November 2S. He was in early life a school-teacher and then a prom-
inent farmer and manufacturer. He represented the town in the legislature in
1855, was chairman of the board of selectmen five years and town treasurer four
years. lie was for several years director of the Indian Head National bank at
Nashua, and was justice of the peace for more than 25 years. He was largely
employed in the settlement of estates.

JOHN J. PIIXSBURY.

As the result of a carriage accident John J. Pillsbury died at Tilton Novem-
ber 26. He was born in Northwood in 1S28, studied law with Judge Clark of
Manchester, practised at Pittsfield, and was later engaged in the shoe business at
Lynn, Northwood, and Tilton. Since iSSS Mr. Pillsbury had been engaged in
the woollen business and was treasurer of the Tilton Mills corporation from its
organization in 1S89 to his death.

REV. JOSIAH TYLER.

Josiah Tyler was born in Hanover, July 9, 1823. He was educated at Amherst
college and the theological seminary at East Windsor Hill, Conn. For forty
years, from 1849, ne labored as a missionary among the Zulus of South Africa.
Since his return to this country he had lived with his son at St. Johnsbury, Vt.
Amherst college conferred upon him the degree of D. D. in 1S95. He died,
December 20, at Asheville, N. C.

MAJOR L. B. PRATT.

Leonard Barnes Pratt was born in Providence, R. I., 62 years ago, educated at
Brown university and served with the First Rhode Island cavalry through the war,
receiving the rank of major. He became a resident of Lisbon twenty years ago
and was prominently identified with its interests especially in educational lines.
He was a member of the legislature in 18S9 and of the board of education at the
time of his death, December 16.

NEWELL TILTON.

Newell Tilton, born in Meredith 58 years ago, had resided in New Orleans for
the last 35 years, and died there December 1. He learned the mechanic's trade
in New England, and during his life was master mechanic on several prominent
western and southern railroads. Since 1883 he had been the manager of the Whit-
ney Iron W'orks, New Orleans, and was generally regarded as a leader in his line.

CHARLES H. CUSHMAN.
Charles H. Cushman was born in Norwich, Vt., October 12, 1857, and was edu-

96 NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY.

cated there. Coming to Manchester at the age of 21, he learned the clothing
business and entered into a partnership with George H. Hardy which continued
until Mr. Cushman's death, December 1. He was one of Manchester's leading
business men, and prominent in church and secret society work.

WILLIAM E. GAY.

William E. Gay died at Hillsborough December 9 at the age of 60 years. He
had been selectman of the town, had held all the offices except master in Valley
grange. Patrons of Husbandry, and was a Leading member of the Methodist
church. He was an extensive and successful farmer and was regarded as an
authority upon agricultural questions.

A CENTENARIAN.

Mrs. Sarah Dinsmore Holmes died at Antrim December 7 at the age of 100
years, 7 months, and 5 days. She was the daughter of a Revolutionary soldier
who came from Ireland and settled in Antrim in 1778. In 1820 she married
Thomas S. Holmes and they lived together fifty-six years, until his death.

GEORGE A. C OSS ITT.

George A. Cossitt was born in Claremont May 31. 1807, but moved to White-
field and thence to Lancaster in the early thirties. He was a practicing lawyer
but served as cashier of the Lancaster bank for twelve years and register of pro-
bate for fifteen. He died at Lancaster December 14.

J. B. TRICKEY.

Joseph B. Trickey, proprietor of the Jackson Fr lis House, Jackson, died Decem-
ber 3, aged 75 years. He was town clerk for twenty-five years, representative and
selectman many times and justice of the peace for a number of years. He was
leader of the church choir for thirty years.

BENJAMIN E. WEBSTER.

Benjamin E. Webster of Walpole, who died November 28, aged 80, was a native
of Gilsum, but was for a long time in business in Boston. Lie had resided in
Walpole some thirty years, where he had filled many civil offices, having been
twice elected a member of the legislature.

JOHN MORRILL.

John Morrill was born at Chichester June 25, 1823, but lived at Nashua half a
century and died there December 6. For forty-eight years he served as black-
smith for a manufacturing company, and in public life had held many city offices.
He was a prominent Odd Fellow.

EDWARD E. DAY.

Edward E. Day was born in Enfield in 1853. Ele studied law, was admitted to
the bar in Massachusetts and built up a large practice at Kankakee, Illinois,
where he died December 14. He was twice a candidate of the Prohibition party
for congress.

THE PRIZE S TORIES. 9 7

JOSEPH E. LAXG.

Joseph E. Lang died December 13 at Exeter in his 63d year. He had been
connected with the Exeter machine works for twenty-five years. He was promi-
nent in Masonry, a member of the board of health, and secretary of the board of
trade.

FREEMAN BABB.

Freeman Babb was born at Barrington December 9, 1S35, and died at Dover
December 10. He was a successful farmer, and had served as common council-
man, street commissicne., and representative to the legislature.

THE PRIZE STORIES.

The prize fiction competition instituted by the Granite Monthly was gratify-
ingly successful in both the number and quality of the manuscripts submitted by
New Hampshire authors. The judges, Prof. C. F. Richardson of Dartmouth col-
lege, Prof. J. A. Tufts of Philips academy, Exeter, and Mr. J. Carter Knox of
S. Paul's school, performed their duties with care and impartial it)-" and made the
following awards :

In the serial competition the prize of $50 was awarded to E. P. Tenney of Cam-
bridge, Mass., a native of West Concord, for his historical novel, "The Legend of
John Levin and Mary Glasse." Honorable mention was made of " Polly Tucker,"
by Mrs. J. R. Connell of Portsmouth. The opening installment of the prize-win-
ning story is given in this number. Upon its conclusion the publication of " Polly
Tucker" will be begun.

From the large number of short stories submitted in competition the judges
selected as the most meritorious " The Doctor's Thanksgiving Story," by Miss
Sara M. Swett of New Hampton, and awarded it the prize of $25. It will be
found complete in this number. The following stories were also recommended for
publication, and will appear during the year :

"Farnum," by G. C. Selden, Chicago, 111 , a native of Northwood.

"Light of Gold," by Walter LeRoy Fogg, Manchester.

" How Old Corncob Was Fooled," by Charles R. Harker of San Jose, Cal., a
■ native of Dover.

"The Dago," by F. W. Rollins, Concord.

"Aunt Betsey's Thank-Offering," by Mrs. Mary Jenks Page, Worcester, Mass.,
a native of Concord.

"The Lucky Snap-Shot," by Mrs. C. E. Bingham, Nashua.

" Only an Engagement," by W. A. Guild, Milford.

"August Sunshine," by William Tenney Bartley, Andover, Mass., a native of
Concord.

9 3 THE PRIZE STORIES.

Rev. E. P. Tenney is the son of the late Rev. A. P. Termev. for thirty-four years
pastor of the Congregational church at West Concord. He fitted for college at
Pembroke academy, and entered the Dartmouth class of TS58, but was obliged to
leave college upon the advice of his physician. After three attempts to resume
his college course, he finally entered Bangor Theological seminary. Upon gradu-
ating he was advised to pursue some out-of-door employment, and acted as travel-
ling editor of the Pacific newspaper in California. On his return to New England
he spent some years in special studies, a part of the time at Andover seminary,
and in connection with parochial work. He preached five years at Manchester-
by-the-sea, and then went to Central City. Colorado. This border service was
relinquished on account of an attack of nervous prostration. After preaching
for some years at Braintree, Mass., and at Ashland, he returned to Colorado and
engaged in building up the new college at Colorado Springs. Finding it without
means and in debt, he maintained the work for eight years and gathered for it a
substantial property. At a subsequent date Mr. Tenney acted as general mis-
sionary for the Home Missionary Society in Washington, upon the Pacific coast.
He has also supplied pulpits for some years in New England, filling two engage-
ments in New Hampshire, — at Orford and at Pembroke. He now resides at
Cambridge. During all these vears Mr. Tennev has been a careful student in
the libraries, and has written several books. His writings in behalf of education
in the New West had an immense circulation. " Coronation," -'Agamenticus,"
and " Constance of Acadia," have made many literary friends for the author. His
latest work is the " Triumphs of the Cross," the result of ten years of library and
desk work. Mr. Tenney received, some years since, the honorary degree of
Master of Arts from Dartmouth college. Sarah Holden, daughter of Daniel
Holden of Concord, was his first wife. His present consort is a descendant of
Leonard Weeks of Greenland. Her father was a drummer-boy at Fort Constitu-
tion in the War of 18 12.

Miss Sara M. Swett is a native of Bristol, whence her parents moved to New
Hampton when she was very young. She was educated at the widely known
institution in the latter town, graduating in the class of '82. Her life since that
time has been the typical one of the cultured woman of the day, largely spent in
travel and in the study of people and places as well as books. Writing has been
with her a habit of long standing, one of whose results is "The Doctor's Thanks-
giving Story," which is also to some extent a transcript of personal experience.

Invaluable Aids to Teachers
and Students of Geography

National
EOGRAPHIC MONOGRAPHS

on the Physical Features
of the Earth's Surface.

Now Ready

I — PHYSIOGRAPHIC PROCESSES
II— PHYSIOGRAPHIC FEATURES

JOHN W. POWELL,

Late Dirccioi U. S Ge ^logical Survey.

nnual Subscription — ten .Monographs —
payable in advance $1.50

nnual Subscription — five copies to one
address — payable in advance, . . 6.00

ingle Monographs 20

Remit with order to

American Book Company

ew York - Cincinnati - Chicago

Just Published

Long's
HOME GEOGRAPHY

-:- Beautifully Illustrated -:-

PRICE, 25 CENTS

A beginner's book, based on the
natural methods of teaching geog-
raphy recommended in the Report
of the Committee of Ten. Prepares
the young mind for more advanced
geographical study by cultivating
the observing faculty and imparting
a clear conception of geographic
features.

Sent, postpaid, for 25 cents
AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY

New York - Cincinnati - Chicago - Boston
Atlanta - Portland, Ore.

GINN & COMPANY'S VERTICAL ROUND HAND
v BITING- BOOHS present an open, round hand-writing,
lich, when written, will produce the greatest lega-
lity, as well as add to the beauty and general open-
Qcss of the page.

We know that you will be pleased with the typo-
I . aphical appearance of these books. They are cer-
■ inly striking examples of what can be done by the
! inter and engraver. Write to us for descriptive cir-
( lars. We invite your correspondence. Six numbers
the series are now ready. The price for introduction
96 cents per dozen.

GINN & COMPANY. Publishers,

i )ston. New York. Chicago. Atlanta.

WE WILL BIND YOUR

Granite s* !

Broujh & BuRpee,

CONSULTING OPTICIANS,

THE KENNARD. . . . MANCHESTER,

Have given a life's study to Ophthalmic optics, and their
testing parlor was never <o well equipped as now. Com-
plicated visual defects and incidental bead and nervous
troubles their specialty. Highest standard in skill and
material. This is the only place this side of Boston
where prescription spectacles are made. You can save
time and money by sending your prescriptions and
broken spectacles to them.

They have just received a lar.ee import order of
Opera, Field, and Alanine Glasses and Binocular Tele=
scopes in all grades, including the finest made.

Will send C. O. D. to anv address with permission
to examine, a good achromatic opera in Black for f^.co,
and in Pearl for 5t->.cx>.

in l is i •

YlontMies

IX CLOTH, STANDARD BINDING.

-#■ FOR -K-

50 c. PER VOLUME,

IF ALL NUMBERS ARE SENT
US IN GOOD CONDITION,
EXPRESS PREPAID.

GRANITE MONTHLY CO.,

Concord, N. H.

The World's Fair"

Best Flou

Excels All Others in
Purity in Milling and
Excellent Flavor of the Bread.

L C. PORTER MILLING CO.,

WINONA, MINN.

A. S. RANNEY, Concord, N. H., M\ Agent for Mains, New Hampshire, Vermont, and Norton Massachusetts.

I ■■■-./ r

1 ^ JL-

j' fife -'jU fi*TprV* (fx

- m

-■■■-

1 A * • /

( • ... '

p..

s 1 a / S

mid

Trtlr GRflNITt /WW WW

1896

WHEN

ECONOMICAL

Overworked

THK IDEAI, TOXIC

Y^¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥^*

INK-

¥¥¥

builds up
Strength

Quickly

Mailed Free, ;

Descriptive Book with Testimony and

Portraits

OF NOTED CELEBRITIES.

Beneficial an »7 Agreeable.

Every Test Proves Reputation.

Avoid Substitutions. A^k for* Yin Hariani.'
At Dru^ists and Fancy Grocers.

MARIANI & CO.,

Paets: <1 Bd. Hauvmnn. 52 W. 15th St ITsT 7::L

LOSOON: 239 Oxford Slrert.

ft
ft

i-
g

?■■

Barbour's Tablet Ink possesses many
advantages over the best liquid ink,
and is sold at a lower price. Dis-
solve a iabkt in water and you get
a dead black, permanent ink, that
fiows freely, dees not gum, leaves
no sticky^ tnussy sediment in the ink
well, does not corrode the p'n. You
make t as you want it. If you buy
it and don't like it, send it back and
Xiie'll return your money.

For fifteen cents, we will send
enough tablets to make half a pint of
combined writing and copying ink.

For 'fifty cents, we will send
enough tablets to make a gallon
of ike best "school" ink you
ever saw. School ink won't copy.

¥¥¥

65 FIFTH AVE., NEW YORK *

mm* Andrews
&&% School

„^3 .'•'/■-' Furnishing *
^^> Company *

Am Looking

1= j

•

for the boy who said his father could sell a
better life insurance policy than the ones

offered by Nicholas Frost of Concord.

My father says that the policies offered by
Nicholas Frost are the very best, and what
father says I will back up every time/'

e
SP! CIMEN POLICIES MAILED TO ANY ADDRESS.

Nicholas Frost, ^}j&

CONCORD, N. H

UNDER THE CLOCK

poo 3 S 5oco ooooo cox> o o o ooo

FEBRUARY; IS96.

wire

|K:«

A Winter in a Logging Camp, Rev. Orrin Robbins Hunt

A Winter Midnight, J. B. Lawrence .

Farnim, G. C. Selden . . . . . .

The Haunts of the Snowbird, Charles Henry Chesley
Raymond. George H. Moses ......

Inexpression, Fred Lewis Pattee

The Princes in the Tower. Edward A. Jenks

The Legend of John Levin and Mary Glasse, E. P

By Old Stamboul, Frederick Myron Colby ....

Sewali/s Falls Historically Considered, Otis G. Hammond

An Imperishable Epitaph, Frank L. Phalen

Our Stoke of Old Letters, Marian Douglas

Educational Department, Fred Gowing . . .

The Worshipper. Samuel Hoyt . . . .

New Hampshire Necrology ......

Charles A. Dana, by William E. Chandler; Berlin, by Edward C. Niles
The Concord Snowshoe Club, by Dr. Edward French ;
in the March Granite Monthly.

Subscription : £2.00 per year ; 31.50 if paid in advance ; 20 cents per copy.
Entered at the post-onice at Concord, X. H., rs second-class matter.
Copyright, 1S96, by the Granite Monthly Company. All rights reserved.
Illustrated, printed, and electrotjped by the Republican Press Association, Concord, N. H.

8f5E

Non -Taxable Securities.

Suncook Valley Railroad Stock,

Guaranteed at 6% b}' Concord & Montreal and Boston & Maine.

Providence Building Company Stock,

Of Providence, R. I.

Concord & Montreal Railroad Company Stock,

Guaranteed at 7% by Boston &: Maine.

All the above stocks are safe, conservative home investments, free from
tax, and netting a good, fair rate of interest. Full particulars and our gen-
eral list of bonds sent on application. We will take other good bonds and
stocks in exchange for above stocks.

E. H. Rollins &

Sons,

53 State Street, Boston, Mass.

Good Housekeeping

FOR 1S06.

Rich a.id rare is the Bill of Fare,

The caterer is about to fix,
And the Table of Contents to prepare,

Of Good Housekeeping for '96.

TERMS or SUBSCRIPTION:

$2.00 a year; $1.00 for six months; 50 cents
for three months; the latter concession being
made in order to introduce Good Housekeeping
as widely as possible into homes where it has
not been known, its business history having
demonstrated that it holds well its place, wher-
ever it once gets a foothold.

For $2.25, Good Housekeeping for one year,
and " Catherine Owen's celebrated New Cook
Book," oil cloth binding, will be sent, postpaid.

For $3.00, Good Housekeeping and "Miss Par-
loa's Kitchen Companion," $2.50, 966 pp., the
largest and best work of its distinguished author.

This gives a rare opportunity to secure the best
work of two of Good Housekeeping's old-time
and favorite contributors — books. of rare value,
widely recogni/.cd and commended, both for their
domestic and literary merits and excellence.
CLARK \Y. BRYAN CO., Springfield, Mass.

EMDON FRITZ, 31. T>.

Practice limited to

Diseases of the Eye, Ear,
Nose, and Throat.

Office hours, o to 12 and 2 to 4.

Rooms 37 and 38, Pickering Bldg.
MANCMLSTF.R, N. H.

ELECTROTYPES

Of any of the engravings appearing
la the Granite Monthly may be
purchased of us for the small sum of
15 cents per square inch. Positively
no originals loaned. Address
Granite Monthly Co., Concord, N. H.

rpHEKE i ■ . natural i
*- I- ; - .a: health,
ami i!m- niTHii.* arc in i

nl scientific way to accomplish whatever
wealth, aii'l power, ffe teach that way,
nir own Vital Mafnietisin ami vm.r will;

the aii-'cx. JWWer that pumnuii'li Nntuj>
circular* !'re-e. PKoF. AM>EBS<

forces. Interesting
G. C.
a Temple, Chicago.

•ry description. Semi fo
Gem Rcbbee Co., Kama

KIMBALL UNION ACADEMY,

MERIDEN, N. H.

New Bciildings. Enlarged Facilities. Delight-
ful SntTwandings. Four-years courses of study.
The Departments of Oratory and Physical Culture
jusr. established. Y'oung men and women fitted
for oar best colleges. Students of limited means
received on the ".■JlOO a year plan." Fall term
begin.i Sept. 11, 1895. Send for catalogue.

W. H. CUMMINGS, A. M., Principal.

'ft

"*H->.

■

X --"

£&€

■/--' .^:- :

ffc?yo V"

■ ' ■•

' ; *

? ]i'i hi{\ '" .'Ll

: : . ; '. • : - \\ ' "'i

- ■:£; :) i-.i

- • ■" . ■ -- •yJS.

■:■■ ■ - '< '-«

:;■>:-;

■ /: : *' f '-<•*.

/;. ' --[If.^

' ."; "%■ ' ,f'^-V

■•' " "'' ..' -*■*'; "

•■«.*- -<^~L- ■ f\

*&:^\\

\}A, it**!*

fsi r f/^V-j

■ : li) V

JjJ

' '',V^ , \« v '

&<*£$% Ki

■ . jr# '■*• •

.• fii^rj-'fjivS

• &!* £V£f

■ * " ■;> *"£

R*§P£

I A ' i

Vt\V,

>£

Sfe

-"■•?,

*::.^ ..riaSidUaaSs.

&&S&&3&!

i'w • .■ ;?i W.-'-tw. : . -^ jj

<W-

The Granite Monthly

Vol. XX.

FEBRUARY, 1S96.

No.

A WINTER IN A LOGGING CAMP.

fiv Rev. Orrin Rabbins Hunt.

HE camp of which I
write is one of the
Connecticut River
Lumber Compa-
ny 's. located in the
most northerly part
of this state, in the
town of Pittsburg. The company
was chartered under the laws of the
state of Connecticut in 1879, and
then had 250,000 acres, more or less,
of lumber land.

The Hon. Asa Smith, of Hartford.
Conn., was the first president, and a
pioneer in the lumber interests of
this part of the state. After four
years of service he resigned, and was
succeeded by George Van Dyke of
Lancaster, who is now the president.
Having camped for ten successive
seasons, during the months of August
and September, on the western shore
of the Second lake, I had made the
acquaintance of nearly all the leading
men of the company, and, rinding
them to be good men, and true, I
pulled the latch-string of Samuel
Watts, the business manager and
treasurer of the company, for winter
quarters, in one of their logging
camps.

My request was cheerfully granted,
and. after spending the night with
Mr. Watts, he took me into the
woods, where he had driven me on
a buekboard, ten years previous, when
he was a hostler for the company.

F "I

I I

h ■ . f fed •--

■ . ■

Ready for the Woods.

IOO

1 WINTER IN A LOGGING CAMP.

wmmm

Building the Dai

Arriving at the camp, on the east-
ern shore of the hike, I was intro-
duced to the "boss," Clarence Robey.
and to the cook and "cookee."
"Boys," said Watts, ;- 1 have brought
this fellow in to live with you this
winter and keep you straight. Feed
him well, and let him do as he
pleases, and you will have no
trouble." At once the cookee offered
me the use of his bunk to sleep in.
while he, kind soul, persisted in
wrapping himself in his blanket and
lying on the floor.

The first healthy omen in the study
of the lumber works, is the construc-
tion of the dams and camps. At the
First and Second lakes, and on the
East inlet, two miles above the Second
lake, are located these dams. The one
on the inlet is thirteen miles from civ-
ilization, and among the many obsta-
cles in constructing it was a quick-
sand. This necessitated the use of
a pile-driver, and, notwithstanding
the fact that it was fifty six miles to
the nearest railway station, a team of
good horses was sent down to North
Stratford, and in five days was back
to the lake again, bringing the neces-
sary machine.

Another difficulty then confronted
the workmen, — viz., the crossing of
the lake. To do this, two rafts of

— "™^ logs were built large
enough to carry the pile-
.$§ driver and another to car-
H ry the horses and the pro-
visions for the horses and
crew. For the propelling
power of these rafts they
had eight sturdy French-
J! men in a bateau. With
| Mr. Van Dyke steering,
they reached the opposite
side of the lake in about
two hoonrs, a distance of one and a
half mili.es.

The fcime spent in building the
dams vairies according to the loca-
tion. Tfhe accompanying picture is
a view of the one at the foot of the
Second lake, and, while taken in an
incomplete state, shows something of
the workmanlike manner in which
the dam. is built. The second picture
gives a view of the workmen, the tent
they slejpt in, and a hovel for theif
horses.

The Second lake is about three
miles long and two wide, and by
means <of this dam can be raised
thirteen feet, thus covering a very
much larger area than at its natural
height.

Crossing the lake to the east shore,
and goimg up about three miles, we
come tc one of the winter camps.
They are usually located beside a

. **t^K ■ . -• — -4fei

W-7A

Tne Men and Where They Live.

™

A WINTER IN A LOGGING CAMP.

101

good spring or stream of water and
built log-eabin style, one-story high,
with two rooms. One, 20x30, is for
the workmen and the other. 1SX20, is
for the cook and for a dining-room.

Formerly the camps were covered
with splits, the first covering being
laid the flat side up, and the second
one the flat side down, covering the
joints. The floors were formerly
made of small trees hewn on the
top side, but now both the floor and
the roof of the camps are of boards,

berths, and furnish their own blan-
kets. All this goes to show that
there are improvements made even
in lumber camps.

These pictures give a view of each
room in the camp. The first one
shows the bunks where the men
sleep, the stove over which they
dry their clothing, and the room
where they sit and smoke. As it
happened, there are four nationalities
represented in this group, — Ameri-
can, Italian, Irish, and French.

A Camp Interior. I. Ame.-'can. 2. Italian. 3. Irishman. 4. Frenchman.

and the roof has two thicknesses of
tarred paper.

These camps are very warm and
comfortable, and under the super-
vision of a good cook are kept clean
and orderly. The lights are put out
and the men are all in bed at 9
o'clock in the evening. Formerly
the beds were made of fir boughs
and straw, covered by a long, heavy
spread, held in place by means of
rings and pins at each end, and with
a spread over the men, secured at
each end the same as the under one.
At the present time the men have

The little fellow in the corner is
the cook's woodchopper, who said,
" I no want my picter tooken ; " but,
he is in it, just the same, as are all
the others, because of "La Grippe."
The other picture represents the cook
and the dining-room. By the way,
let me introduce you to our 'cook,
Archie Pomelo, and his general as-
sistant, Ed. Clevet.

The cook, you will know by his
long apron, but to know Clevet you
must camp with him. Pie rises at
4 o'clock in the morning, builds the
fires, and at 4 : 30 calls the cook,

102

A WINTER IN A LOGGING CAMP.

rsr« •

F* **» . ' JB^ W»

LP i* - :

■S* '"

.:*

The Cock and the Dir.ing-roor

MSI

which, by the way, he does loud
enough to arouse the entire crew.

At 5 o'clock the cook has his bis-
cuits made, and the breakfast is
ready. It consists of baked beans,
hot biscuits, sweetbread, doughnuts,
dried apple sauce, molasses, and tea.
The other meals are varied each day,
although baked beans are always on
the table for those who wish for them,
and the}' are preferred by many.

Sunday is a day of general repair-
ing and visiting, and in all the camps
the Sunday dinner is pea soup. —
good enough for a king. The sup-
plies are brought from the store at
the First lake daily by mule teams,
as seen in the picture which shows
them on the lake at the fork of the
road.

Shoppie is going up to Leigh-
ton's camp, two miles up the main
inlet, and "Tony" is going up to
our's. The tote team is always wel-
comed by every man in the camp, for

-•;-»

it usually brings some bit of infor-
mation from the outside world as
well as the camp supplies. The fol-
lowing view shows that the work of
the company is done by able-bodied
men and large horses ; in fact, every-
thing they have to do with must have
the power to do what is required ;
hence, a lazy man, or a poor horse or
mule, will find no place with the com-
pany.

k— ^.. .. ,_• ' . . .

The Parfng of the Ways.

The Cook and Cookee.

The man in the picture with a
snowball in his hand is the black-
smith, who has by no means an easy
task. I have known him to come
into camp with a lot of shoes all pre-
pared, and shoe all night, and then,
next morning, go to some other
camp, and after a little sleep, repeat
the operation until he had made the
rounds of the entire camps. This
night work was, of course, done to
save time.

In this camp, where it was my
privilege to stop, we had teamsters,
road men, landing men, choppers,
swampers, and yarders. The chop-
pers fell the trees, the swampers clear

A WINTER IN A LOGGING CAMP.

the way to them, and the yard-
ers drag the logs to the vard
where the teamsters load. The |
two-horse team, as seen in the
picture, represents a learn at |
the yard loading for the land- \
ing.

Most of the teams are com-
posed of four horses, and make
three trips daily from the yard
to the landing at the lake,
where the logs are drawn out upon
the ice and unloaded. The men on
the load beside the driver in the next
picture are landing-men, whose duty
calls them to assist the driver to un-
load, put the company's mark on
every log (which, by the way, is a
four x, X J X ), and keep count of the
same to compare with the number of
logs returned by the scaler, who, bv

«M

■ ■ i

^~ — <^. r V>^i3

Able-bodied Men and Large Horses.

the way, stands with book in hand at
the rear of the load, as seen in the
picture. Each teamster cares for his
horses and assists in loading and un-
loading.

The road men are the first over tne
road in the morning, that the}' may
have the hill road well covered with
hay, which is used instead of a bridle,
and the last over it at night to gather
up the hay and put it in little piles
beside the road, lest it be covered
with snow and be of no use.

In the spring, just before the ice
breaks up, there is a boom thrown

The B'acksmitn and Others.

around the logs on the lake for the
purpose of forcing them down to the
dam at the foot of the lake. This
boom is made by attaching the ends
of the logs by means of short chains
with sharp, pointed hooks which are
driven into the logs ; or, in some
instances, by means of a large wooden
pin through the end of two logs, thus
forming a swivel joint where the logs
unite. The picture herewith is of
the dam on vSecond lake, and is a
good representation of the way the
logs are driven through the gate-way
into the lake and river below. I
have witnessed this work, with watch
in hand, and the}' have averaged one
per second going through the gate-
way, and unless there is some ob-
struction down along the river the
work is continued at that rate.

There are men stationed within
sight of each other all along the bank
of the river, from the Second lake
down to the First, and, should any of

jL mMk&A hh*KH t K*^ J

l : :u.^L..^^..--J<-Jt': .-■•.■■ - -^' -

Loading for the Larding.

io4

A WINTER IN A LOGGING CAMP.

the men fail to clear the obstruction,
the fact is signalled to the next man
above, who repeats the same until the
message reaches the dam and the
gates are closed. By the time the
crew have arrived at the jam, the
logs already through the gate-way

?■
r

Load and Landing-men.

have arrived, and are piled up like
a keg of" board nails dumped on a
floor.

The first thing is to find the key
log, and either cut it or else bore a
hole in it and by means of a dyna-
mite cartridge, blow up the log and
loosen the entire jam.

The crew of men standing in the
front of the picture below are river-
drivers, and have their cant-dogs
and other implements of warfare.

As a whole, logging is hard work,
and the men, cut off from any society
save that of each other, present a
rough exterior ; nevertheless, they
are large hearted and have their
recreation and pleasure. I have sat
in the "deacon's seat" with them,
and listened with great interest to
some of their daring adventures as
choppers or river drivers.

The most of this crew were from
Canada, consequently I thought it
would be a grand opportunity for me
to learn French. One day while alone
in camp with the cook and cookee,
I asked the meaning of " sarcaree
mojee." I heard these words more

than any others which I could re-
member.

Surprised at my inquiry, the cook
said, <4 Oh, that is bad, you no want
to know/' " Ah ! " said Clevet ; " you
no dare tell him." "Well, then,"
said the cook, "why don't you?"
Whereupon Clevet gave me the Eng-
lish of it.

That evening, Clevet told the men,
and there was a great hurrah at my
expense when the fact was known
that the minister was learning to
swear. From that day until this,
the} - have been very solicitous for
my spiritual welfare, and when we
meet, do not fail to ask how I am
getting on in the study of French.

There was no service which they
could render me which they did not
hasten to perform, and much of my
contentment among them was due to
this fact The}* were a little shy of
me at nr.-^t, but soon that feeling wore
away, and nearly every evening they
would ask some favor or seek mv

| .:;-..■ ■.->

k ■■•■■Zzf-"?

Driving Through the Logs

advice. I was glad indeed to be
counted a useful member of the crew,
by administering to the needs of both
man and beast.

The remedies which I took with
me were "homeopathic," conse-
quently, instead of mild treatment,
they preferred something, as they
said, which had more taste to it,

A WINTER IN A LOGGING CAMP.

105

and therefore chose a French "hot-
crop," — a dose composed as follows :
Black pepper, Johnson's Anodyne
liniment, one tablespoonfnl each,
and a pint of boiling water, well
sweetened with molasses, taken as
hot as they could drink it.

For a cut or bruise, a fresh " chaw
of terbaccer," or a slice of salt pork,
directly over the wound ; while for a
sprain, beef brine was of great value.
In many instances four tablespoons-
ful of kerosene were taken. For

shoe-thread, about the tooth by means
of two half-hitches, he went and got
two of the largest horse-shoes he
could find and a stick of wood which
he attached to the other end of the
cord.

"For heaven's sake," said I, "what
are you going to do? "

-Oh, I drop de weight, and snake
him out quick ! ' '

"Don't you do dat, John," said the
cook, " you break you neck if you do."

Whereupon old John stood upon

toothache, when the "chaw of ter-
baccer" did not give relief, they
would " snake it out." as they said.

As there is usually a clown in
every circus, so we had one in camp,
familiarly known as old John. One
evening he was very busy, and at
the same time remarkably quiet
about it, so much so that I asked
if he was sick. "No! by Gor ! "
replied John, "but my tooth, he
ache bad."

"Well," said I, "snake him out."
"All right, I do that." So, plac-
ing his five-stranded cord, made of

one of the deacon seats, and, pressing
his head hard against the roof of the
camp, said, " Dare, now, Minister,
count t'ree, and away he go."

Slowly and loudly I counted, "One,
two, three ! ' ' when down came the
wood and horse-shoes and old John
with them, all sprawling.

"By Gor, I fetch him!" said old
John, as he picked up the various
parts, and betook himself to his bunk
for the night.

"By Gor" was old John's by-
word. I thought I would break him
in the use of it, although he said,

io6 A WINTER MIDNIGHT.

"No harm to swear unless you got about the fire iu the evening. I told

mad in your heart." him I was glad he appreciated a

One afternoon I trimmed all their clean lantern, and told him if he

lanterns and had them bright and would not swear any more while I

shining when they came in for them was in camp, I would clean his lan-

at evening. They were all thankful tern every day.

for the little act, and especially old 'Give me you n han' on dat, an'

John, who referred to it as we sat I no swear any more, dyGor/"

A WINTER MIDNIGHT.
By J. B. Lazcrence.

Black night reigns over hill and vale.
The wind moans out its chilling wail
Athwart the eaves, around the hedge,
And yonder at the mountain ledge.

The crystals, beautiful and white,
O'ershadowed by sepulchral night.
Are falling from yon ebon skies
That veil their Author's paradise.

Against the pane the flakes are hurled :
Adown the road in clouds they're whirled,
'Till, wearied his stentorian breast.
Old Boreas sits him down t' rest.

All 's still ! Sleep's lullaby we hear
As silence broods o'er night so drear.
Then known is nothing furthermore —
The mind has left time's dreary shore.

In dreams, soon real, returns the sleet
Upon the angry- wind and fleet,
Loud beating on the roofs and doors
And sifting 'round the sills and floors.

The chimney howls its ghostly moans ;
The weathercock sharp creaks and groans
The straining timbers neath the test
Of Eurus' rampage, know no rest !

Begone, ye winds, to distant caves !
The orb of night his great torch waves !
The mist clouds from the vault dispells !
His glory pours o'er snow -clad fels !

There by the humble cottage pane
At midnight, stands the lowly swain
Entranced, with such a heavenly sight
As winter shows on some midnight !

A)?,

FARXUM.
By G. C. Selden.

HE had no idea that the city had
changed so much. But twen-
ty years is a long time — long
enough for Fa mum's hair to grow
white and his frame thin and stoop-
ing — and he had heard but little from
the great world outside the walls.

Of course he had gathered from the
new prisoners that things were far
different now. They had told him
about the vast blocks and the densely
crowded streets and the splendid
parks and boulevards, but he had
always felt a little doubtful about the
truth of it all — it seemed unreason-
able ; and had he believed it every
word he would been little wiser.
Occasionally the guard would give
them a newspaper, which would be
passed from hand to hand until it
was worn and greasy, and greedily
devoured by those who could read it.
Fartium could read pretty well, but
the papers did not tell him a great

deal

they took so much for granted.

He had looked forward very eager-
ly to the time when he would be free
to go. He had so longed to breathe
the fresh air again, and stride up and
down the well-remembered streets,
and see the sunshine on the lake
once more. He did not expect to
find his friends again. His wife had
died five years before, and his boy
Jim — a chubby little golden-haired
youngster, as Farnum remembered
him, had grown up and drifted away.
He had never seen little Jim — never

since that day so long before, when
the judge had said " twenty years at
hard labor." His mother had never
brought him to the prison. She
would have done so if Farnum had
asked her, but he always said, No,
he did not want the boy to see him
there.

He had scarcely paused to bid his
comrades goodbye — they were his 1
companions from necessity, not
choice — and there was a quick throb
of exultation in his veins as he found
himself upon the streets. He had no
thought then of his white hair and
dim eyes ; his thin, bent shoulders
were straight and strong again, and
his hand was stead}*. His glance
was keen and his step was firm. He
felt in his heart the courage to grap-
ple with the world right sturdily, as
he had done when he was young.

It was but a short time that he fe.lt
em .). Very soon he began to find that
he was like one lost in a strange
country. This was not the place he
had known ; it was some new, grand
city sprung up over night. The roar
of the streets confused him and to
look up at the buildings almost made
him dizzy. There was not a feature
that he knew, hardly a relic of the
old days.

After he had wandered about a
little while he tried to find the place
where he had lived, and where the
boy was born. It was a rickety little
house, and stood in a humble section

ioS

FARNUM.

of the city ; he eon Id have found it
blindfold, in those days. Now it
took him a long time to trace out the
spot. Twice he became confused
and almost gave it up ; but at last he
came upon what he thought must be
the place. It was in the midst of a
network of railroad tracks, where the
switch engines snorted back and forth
and the freight cars stood lined up
along the sides. He sat down on a
rail between the heavy trucks, and
thought of the day that Nell and he
were married. A big sob rose in his
throat, and he almost wished the cars
would start suddenly and end it all.

For several weeks after that Far-
num drifted about the city, spending
the night in a cheap lodging house
and the day upon the streets. He
watched the carriages roll up to the
theaters in the evening — until the
police drove him away. Silken
gowns rustled up the steps and bright
faces turned to look back at the hus-
bands and sweethearts, with their
dazzling linen, telling the coachman
when to come again. It made Far-
num angry to look at them. They
were no better than he ; they had no
more right to be happy.

" Oh, well," he said mournfully, as
he turned away, "they're lucky. I
ain't." And the little girl with the
shawl over her head, who was coax-
ing people to buy the evening paper,
really pitied him, he seemed so un-
happy, and walked so slow across the
street.

He stood upon the comer and
watched the people going home at
night. He imagined every one of
them was hurrying toward warm
hearts and a cheery fireside. Their
happiness made him sad. " If I only
knew where the boy is," he said

again and again. "He'd take care
of his old father. He was a good
little cuss, Jim was. Took after his
mother. ' '

Sometimes he tried, faint-heartedly.
to get work, but it seemed a hopeless
quest. He was not strong enough for
hard labor and no one would give
him anything else to do. "It's no
use," he sighed wearily. " I 've lost
my grip. I ain't no good anymore."

So the day came by and bye when
Farnum's money was gone and he
grew desperate. " I do n't know any
reason," he said to himself, deject-
edly, "why I should crawl away and
die like a dog, an' I ain't goin' to.
I'm goin' to give one more squirm.
They used to cali me the ' King '
before I was sent up. I '11 take an-
other whack at it." Then he thought
a while, and added huskily, "Oh,
well, I s'pose it don't make much
difference. I can't be no worse off."

It had been as burglar that he
earned the title of "King:" but a
burglar must have tools, and Fanuim
had no money to buy them — unless he
could rob some one. He could make
a sand-bag of some sort. He disliked
to strike any one — he had never done
that — but there seemed to be no other
way, now.

It was a dark night and a lonely
place that he chose for the attempt —
a little way west of the river, where
the street was almost deserted after
midnight, and only the rays of a dis-
tant arc-light could penetrate the
gloom. It was here that belated
meny-makers sometimes passed on
their way to the boulevard beyond.

It took a great deal of courage, he
found, to step out from the dusky
alley and strike down an unsuspect-
ing victim. Several times he decided

FARNUM.

109

upon this or that man coming across
the bridge, only to make some weak
excuse at the last moment. One
was too muscular, another too poorly
dressed, a third somewhat watchful.
He had half a mind to give it up,
but hunger is a strong motive — and
Farnum was hungry that night. At
last he said to himself, in a sort of
savage despair, that the next man
w T ho came along, young or old, rich
or poor, he would atta: k.

In a few minutes he heard a firm
tread upon the bridge. He could not
prevent his knees from shaking — the
night was so chilly, he told himself.
He watched the approaching figure
from the shadow where he lurked —
a tall -young fellow

swinging easily

along, his

right hand

in his coat

pocket.

The moment he had passed, Far-
num sprang out, noiseless as a cat,
but every- nerve and muscle as tense
as steel. Just as he raised his arms
to strike, the young man turned his
head a little to one side, showing a
clear-cut profile against the white
electric light beyond. Farnum's arms
dropped limp and weak, and his heart
leaped into his throat. If he had
struck !

" Well, what 's the matter ? " asked
the stranger, calmly, turning around.
He drew his hand from his pocket,
and Farnum caught the gleam of
a silver-mounted pistol. "Hold up
your hands ! "

Farnum pitched his sand-bag into
the gutter for wondering children to
pick up in the morning, and held up
his hands, while the young man
went carefully through his pockets.
"What? No revolve*?" he said in
surprise. " You 're a pretty foot-pad,
aren't you?" He looked Farnum

over curiously. " Well, walk along,"
he said, "I s'pose I'll have to turn
you over to the police."

Farnum did as he was bid without
speaking. Something in the bent fig-
ure before him touched the young fel-
low, "Say, my friend," he said,
not unkindly, stepping up beside him
as they came out upon the boulevard,
**you seem to be in hard luck."

4 *I guess that's about right," re-
plied Farnum, after a pause.

" Hungry ? "

" Yes."

1 Well, come along home with me.
It 's tod bad to send a man to the
police station hungry."

It was a handsome little house to
which Farnum's companion led him,
and a bright fire was blazing in the
grate. "Is that you, Jim?" said a
woman's voice from an adjoining
room. Farnum heard the quick
cough of a sleeping child.

K *Yes," was the reply. "I've
brought a friend of mine along to
help eat this lunch of yours." They
sat down at the little table and ate in
silence.

** Smoke? " said the host, pushing
over .a box of cigars.

" Don't care if I do," replied Far-
num,. puffing contentedly. The little
clock: upon the mantel ticked indus-
triously along. The wind sighed
a rotund the corner. The fire blazed
highier in the grate.

" What 's your name?" said the
younig man, suddenly.

" Jones."

Fins companion laughed. "Can't
you rmake it Smith ? " he asked.

Faumum grinned. "I see you're
up tw tricks," he answered.

"Well, I didn't s'pose you would
tell me, so I 'm not disappointed."

I IO

FARNUM.

"Won't you have a glass of wine?''
he added, going to the sideboard and
pouring it out. It was good wine,
Farnum could tell that, although it
was the first he had tasted for many
a year.

"Say, Jones," he went on after a
long silence, in which he sat gazing
into the fire, " what are you going to
do if I let you go ? "

" Give it up."
' ' ' Will you let me give you a little
advice ? Do n't try to sand-bag any-
body again. You 're not strong
enough. You won't make a suc-
cess of it. I could have laid you
out to-night half a dozen times
before you could hurt me."

" Can't do nothin' else."

Farnum 's host struck a match and
re-lighted his cigar. "Why not go
to work? It 's easier to get an hon-
est living than it is a dishonest one."

Farnum shook his head. "Can't
teach an old dog new tricks,'" he said.

" Sometimes you can. Why not
try it, anyway ? "

" There ain't no show. You don't
know nothin' about it."

"Yes, I do, too. I've bucked
against the same thing myself. My
father was a burglar by profession,
and I guess likely my mother helped
him."

" No she didn't," interrupted Far-
num. "Don't go back on your
mother, boy." The young man
looked at him with surprise.

"What do you know about it?"
he asked.

"Well, of course," replied Far-
num, "I don't know nothin' about
it. But I 'm willin' to bet your
mother wa ! n't in it. Don't go back
on your old mother." He spoke
almost anxiously.

"Well, ma}- be she didn't. I
don't know." answered his compan-
ion, with rising respect. " But, any-
way, that's the handicap I had. And
I 've overcome it."

" How d 'ye do it ? "

" Got up a patent. Got capitalists

into it. Made money. Married a nice

girl. Now I 'm as good as anybody."

' Well, you was young and you

was lucky. I ain't neither."

The young man reflected. " May
be you 're right." he said.

"How long have you been work-
ing Chicago?" he resumed, after a
few minutes pause.

44 Off and on for twenty-five years."

"I'd give a good deal to know
what became of my father. He was
a burglar here about twenty years
ago. Possibly you may know some-
thing of him."

" What was his name ? "

" Henry Farnum."

" Farnum — Farnum," said Farnum,
meditating.

"Thev used to call him ' Kincr ' "

Still Farnum thought. At length
he replied slowly, "Oh, yes, I re-
member him. He was jugged, an' I
guess he died there. At any rate,
that 's the last I heard of him. He
got a long term."

The young fellow shaded his eyes
with his hand. "The old man
always treated me well," he said.
"My mother never told me what
became of him, though I think she
meant to, some time. She died
suddenly, while I was away. I 'm
mighty glad to get news of him."

Farnum could not speak. At
length his host rose, and said, "I
s'pose I *11 have to let you go.
You 're a pretty respectable sort of a
foot-pad. Don't try it again. You

I HE HAUNTS OF THE SNOWBIRD.

i ii

won't make a go of it. And don't
try breaking into this house,'' he
added with a laugh. " If you touch
one of these windows or doors the
burglar-alarm will go off with noise
enough to wake up everybody on
the block. That 's my patent. Good-
bye."

" Now don't that jest beat three of
a kind?" said Farnum to himself,
as he trudged back toward the city.
" Who 'd a thought little Jim would
ever done that ? Got up a patent !
Made money ! Got a nice wife and
a kid ! Prob'ly he 's one o' them
way up society dudes now." He

laughed softly at the idea. "Lucky
he don't know his old scapegrace
father 's around, disgracin' the fam-
ily. An' such a blasted good feller,
too ! Goes to work an' picks up an
old jay, as was jest goiir to swipe
him over the head with a sand-batr,
an' treats him to supper an' wine an'
cigars ! " Farnum stopped to laugh
again. ' 4 By thunder, that's the
best yet. Oh, he 's smart, Jim is."

So he walked on, rejoicing at
Jim's good fortune ; and not until
lie reached the bridge did he re-
member that he had no money and
no place to sleep that night.

f^JS^

THE HAUNTS OF THK SNOWBIRD.
By Charles Henry Chesley.

Where mighty winds sweep o'er the gleaming hill,
And storm-winged furies skip across the snow —
Through every wooded glade and vale below —

Urged on by Boreas, mighty god, whose chill

Hand forged the chains that bind the laughing rill ;
Where howling tempests fiercely surge and blow,
And forest giants wrestle to and fro,

And through all nature runs a shudd'ring thrill.

These are thy haunts, O bird of froward fate,
When tyrant Winter reigns with iron sway,

And here alone, save only with thy mate,
Thou bring' st gladness by thy simple lay ;

And in thy note which scarcely is a tune

I read a harbinger of coming June.

RAYMOND,

Bv George H. Moses.

f&%

N the good old colony
times when we lived
under the king, they
called it Freetown
because the kind's
''broad arrow" cut
upon the choice
1 trees, thus marked
for spars for the
royal navy, did not
prevent the settlers
J from felling the in-
terdicted growth
and getting it to market— and with-
out punishment at that. The father
of Freetown was Stephen Dudley of
Kxeter, a keen business man and the
forerunner of a numerous and dis-
tinguished progeny, who in Janu-
ary, 17 17, purchased the land now
within the boundaries of the town
from an Indian named Penniwit and
Abigail, his squaw. The place was
even then known as Freetown, and
in August of the same year Dudley

was commissioned ' ' Colonel and Town
Major of Freetown . ' '

The duties of town major were not,
it may be assumed, onerous, though
the new community enjoyed a con-
stant growth from the beginning.
Three years after the sale of Free-

;

The tean Ta

town came the grant of Cheshire,
which was, three years later again,
incorporated as Chester, and the for-
tunes of Freetown were joined to
those of its neighbor. For thirty
years Freetown had l ' taxation with-
out representation," and, as in the

► ••••WW!

Y9v»m 1 _jm

i-iS- :

Main Street.

RA YMOND.

113

s'lftti fir? s*; ^Ti .

SF-4 T" "

■A

Birdseye View of the Burned District.

forty years it was a part of Chester
the community was never honored
by having a selectman chosen from
among its inhabitants, that may fur-
nish a reason for the separation and

Benjarr.ii S. Poor

incorporation of the town of Ray-
mond which occurred in 1764.

The act was signed May 9. 1764,
and on the twenty-ninth of the same
month the first town meeting was
held, the voters assembled at Ben-
jamin Bean's inn, a building which

still stands in a portion of the town
which retains the ancient name of
the place, Freetown. Samuel Dud-
ley, a relative of the founder, was
chosen moderator and one of the
selectmen, — and in the flush of new
municipal dignity the new town
voted to build a pound.

The early history of the town is
full of quaint doings. At the second
town meeting, for example, the voters
refused to pay the constable one
pound for his services as tax gath-

Sarr-uei Harriman.

KA YJ/ONU.

/ ■

destitute, and the maintenance of
himself and his family was sold at
vendue at the close of the town
meeting.

In 176S the town turned its mind
to the building of a meeting-house,
and thereby provoked a strife which
lasted ten years. The vexed ques-

Rev. A. H. Tnorr.pson.

erer of the year, upon the ground
that the honor of office-holding was
sufficient emolument ; and the next
year when Jedediah Brown was
chosen constable he would not serve
without pay, and since he could not
be released, he hired John Fullerton
to assume the duties, paying him
two pounds five shillings.

The next year the first census was
taken, and the inhabitants numbered
four hundred and fifty-five. In the
same year one of the settlers became

. — fc ___^ r ^._^ : _

■ ■\

■:■■ — &

taec

Congregational Chorch.

'" . " ' "

■

J. V\ ilson Fiske.

tion of location, which disturbs many
a larger place under similar condi-
tions even to-day, separated the infant
town into warring camps, and a site,
selected at a special meeting in Jan-
uary, was sustained at the regular
assembling in March, only to be
overthrown at a meeting in May,
when choice fell upon another loca-
tion to which the voters in the south-
west part of the town entered solemn
dissent _ In September it was tried,
unsuccessfully, to defeat this choice,
and the dissenters then attempted to
have their portion of the town re-
annexed to Chester. This failed ;
but public feeling ran so high that

RA VJ/OA'D.

•:

the Provincial Assembly
was appealed to, and that
body advised locating the
building on "Sled Hill,"
but the town refused to
assent to the suggestion,
and for two years the dis-
putants enjoyed an armis-
tice.

In 1773, five years after
it had been first voted to
have a meeting-house, a
spirit of compromise moved
the town to vote to locate
the building as near the
geographical center of the
town as possible, and a committee
was chosen to carrv on the work.

Dr. True M. Gould.

But the end was not yet. The
next year all votes relative to a
meeting-house were annulled, and
an entirely new site was selected.
Twenty-one dissenters protested
against the new selection, but with
no avail, and in the autumn the

■• ..•-;"_

-'%.

Methodist Cnurch

frame of the building was raised.
The raising was a great affair. The
town bought a bushel of meal for
the occasion, and paid Robert Page
seventeen shillings five pence for
ruin, sugar, and fish. The dissent-
ers were not silenced by this, how-
ever, and at the next March meeting
an unsuccessful attempt was made to
have the nuetine-house frame moved

.-..•,.

••II

Rev. Cnaries N. Tiiton.

RA YMOND.

to another part of the town. This
was in 1775, and the War of Inde-
pendence which came on immedi-
ately had the effect of stifling the
minor quarrel, and the church ques-
tion maintained its status quo. Noth-
ing further was done on the frame,
and after a while the timbers were
taken down and used in building a
bridsre, thus fulfilling in some meas-
lire the functions they were designed
originally to perform.

The Revolution was finished and
peace declared, and New Hampshire
had adopted a constitution before the
meeting-house question was again
taken up, and then, the lessons of
war aiding, no doubt, to hasten the
decision, the town chose a committee
of four to decide where the house
should stand ; if they could not agree
they were to add a fifth member,
and the majority should rule. It is
not known whether the fifth man was
needed, but the meeting-house was
raised June 14, 17S6, and James Mer-
rill, one of the selectmen, furnished a
barrel of rum for the occasion.

Two years later the annual March
meeting; was held in the new meeting-
house, but the environment was evi-
dently too oppressive, for it was voted
to adjourn to Lieutenant Bean's.

f*\

• 4 m ^ |f

■■\

1 S i

'■

■"■

y . x

'•'

• s&fyr~&' : .

•']

■

. .. '.Vsn «*■

Col. S. D Tilton.'

Lieutenant Bean kept the tavern,
and for twenty-three years the town
meeting had been held at his house,
so that the adjournment was not unnat-
ural as a matter of sentiment, to say
nothing of the ease with which toddy
might be obtained. At this election
John Langdon was chosen governor,
though the electors of Raymond gave
nearly half of their votes to one of their
own townsmen, the Hon. John Dudley.
But even the building of the meet-
ing-house did not settle the question.
It was located near the geographical
center of the town, but the business
center had discourteously located
itself elsewhere in the town, and
it was accordingly voted, in 1797,
meeting-house thither,
ttempted to rescind
the attempt failed
d the dissenters,
defeated by the Raymond elector-
ate, appealed to the Most High,
and while the successful party
went hunting through the forests
in search of timbers for the
moving, the minority went on

RA YMOND.

'•-<s

A Typical Street in Raymond.

to 1785 he was a judge of the court
of common pleas. He was then made
a judge of the superior court, serving
until 1797, and it was here that he
made a reputation which can never
die while lawyers live to recount the
traditions of their profession. He
was not trained for the law, but a
distinguished advocate has borne wit-
ness that he "had patience, discern-

ment and sterling integrity.

which neither partiality nor

prejudice, threat nor flat-

' ;1 tery, hope nor fear could

?,-| seduce or awe."

His court manners were
brusque in the extreme,
.X and Governor Plumer,
j9 who practised before him,
is authority for this ex-
ample of Judge Dudley's
charges to the jury : " You
have heard, gentlemen,
what has been said in this
case by the lawyers, the
rascals ! But no, I will
not abuse them. It is their business
to make a good case for their clients ;

x '

}

Col. G H. Tucker.

John N. Tilton.

the}' are paid for it, and they have
done in this case well enough. But
you and I, gentlemen, have some-
thing else to consider. They talk of
law. It is not law we want, but jus-
tice. A clear head and an honest
heart are worth more than all the

RA YMOND.

119

law of the lawyers. There was one
good thing said at the bar. It was
from one Shakespeare, an English
player. I believe. It is good enough,
almost, to be in the Bible. It is
this, 'Be just and fear not.' That,
srentlemen, is the law in this ease.

---.

V- '

•

I-..

■

John T. Bartlett, Esq.

had

1 always thought demurrer a

C. W. Scribner

It is our business to do
between the parties, not
quirks of the law, out of
Blackstone 01 Coke, books
that I never read and never
will, but by common sense
as between man and man.
That is our business, and
the curse of God will rest
upon us if we neglect, or
evade, or turn aside from
it."

Common sense ruled
Judge Dudley's court, and
when once Jeremiah Mason
attempted to urge a plea of
demurrer before his honor
the court remarked that he

justice
by the

cursed cheat," and, turning upon
Mason, exclaimed, "Let me advise
you,, young man, not to come here
with your new-fangled law."

Despite his eccentricities the bar
respected him, and Judge Parsons
of Xewburyport, in discussing him,
said. "You may laugh at his law
and ridicule his language, but Dud-

■ •

I 1

. ii£t*3A;' :

Shepard Hotel.

120

RAYMOND.

ley is the best judge I ever knew .in
New Hampshire." Judge Arthur
Livermore gave his opinion that
"justice was never better admin-
istered in this state than when Mr.
Dudley was on the bench."

He certainly was a unique char-
acter, and in view of what I can
learn of him it is a deep regret to
me that he did not declare himself

tithing--rnen were annually chosen to
protect the Sabbath from violation,
and tbe daily walk of the people was
godly and pious.

Patriotism, too, abounded, and the
War of 1S12 was cordially supported
in Raymond. The Federalistic sen-
timent of the western counties never
extended into old Rockingham, and
Governor Plumer found his neigh-

Dana J. Healey.

W. H. Bailey
A. P. Brown.

A. G. Whitti

on the meeting-house question for
the benefit of posterity.

The opening of the nineteenth
century found the town contented
and prosperous. The free water
privileges of the Lamprey river were
utilized for small manufacturing, and
by dint of hard labor the soil, yet
virgin, gave fair returns to the hus-
bandman. Incomes were small, to
be sure ; but so were desires, and
there was plenty for all. Primitive
and Puritan manners prevailed. The

bors quick to support him in his
movements against threatened Brit-
ish invasion.

The "cold Fridays" of 18 10 and
of 1S17 did not disturb our peaceful
hamlet, nor did the hard times of the
latter year nip Raymond keenly. A
veracious historian narrates, among
evidences of the prevailing hardships
that year, — that cider was three dol-
lars a barrel, though there is nothing
to show that the town lacked either
cider or the money to pay for it.

RA YMOND.

121

Among the curious traditions of
those days was one to the effect that
winter would not set in until after
Thanksgiving, and in 1S1S Gov-
ernor Plumer, again in office after
six years of private life, did not pro-
claim the feast until the last day of
December. The weather continued
warm and pleasant until some time
in January, and certain people in
Raymond were on that account de-
sirous of retaining Gov-
ernor Plumer in office.
but the majority of the
state willed otherwise
and returned to the old
custom of an early win-

The separation of church and state
brought new denominational influ-
ences into the community, and
churches arose and fell. The rail-
road came, bringing little in its
train and taking little with it. Ray-
mond was a century old and yet had
scarcely changed within half that
time. The anniversary was marked
with, appropriate celebration and the
even tenor of things was resumed.

Tn**~T

■T

r
[

'-.<

Tne Sfioe S-ops.

ter. Though in favor of a later win-
ter, Raymond people, for the most
part, were conservative, and recorded
a solid opposition to various schemes
to form new counties and to erect aggregated endeavor rrom the simple
new towns, and even extended its and primitive hand shops which had

Two wars passed,
and Raymond gave
of her manhood to
both of them, and
both of them had
passed into history
ere the new order
of affairs took place.
Thns came with the introduction of
shoe manufacturing, perhaps twenty
years ago, the final step in the devel-
opment of an industrial svstem of

hostility to the proposition for the
state to aid in erecting an insane
asylum and to abolish capital pun-
ishment. On the temperance ques-
tion the town voted in favor of enact-
ing a prohibitory law.

Thus quietly the town grew old.

sprung up on nearly every farm. The
establishment of the shoe industry
practically created a new Raymond.
A liberal pay-roll at the factory still
fuxtiier denuded the hill farms of their
sons to each succeeding generation of
wliom the struggle for a livelihood

122

RA YMO'ND.

had grown fiercer and less remunera-
tive, and village life took on a citified
activity. Money circulated freeh-
and there was little thought for the
morrow. Prosperity seemed perma-
was permanent, when, on
stroke of misfortune, it

nent, nay,
a sudden

Jg^i8g3$HS

•v;;;

MM - .

Mrs. N. S. Thomas.

remnants of their possessions and
spoke in undertones of their losses.
Townspeople and curious visitors
alike considered the blow a fatal one,
and the funeral oration of Raymond
was pronounced by more than one
voice among its still smoking ashes.
But the town was not dead. In-
deed it was never more alive. It was
not even asleep. The outlook was
certainly stupefying. Not only was
the heart of the town burned out, but
the firm which occupied
the larger shoe - factory
took occasion just then
to move its business city-
ward. It required cour-
age- to meet

threatened to
spread its
wings and fly
the town for-
ever.

Raymond folk still
of " The Fire " in an
dertone and with capitals,
though it is three years since
its day, and the benefits it
brought have covered all
its gaping wounds. It was
a desolate Raymond that bright De-
cember morning after the flames
had spent themselves. The village
churches, stores, business blocks, the
railroad station, storehouses, and
dwelling-houses which had bade fare-
well to the sinking sun on the after-
noon before, were gone, and the
dawning rays of another day lit up a
smoking crater of desolation where
the village had smiled but yesterday.

the emer-
gency, and
courage
was found.
A new ten-
a n t w a s
f o u n d for
the factory.

J. L. Jones

The burned-out merchants tempora-
rily established themselves in the
town-house and began plans for new
buildings in the spring. The pastors
of the homeless churches looked to

There was a funereal stillness in the God for aid and vigorously besought
air as in the presence of the dead, men to contribute likewise. The rail-
Men busied themselves amidst the road replaced its burned structure

INEXPRESSION.

123

with modern and handsome build-
ings. And the people of the town,
now that the horse was stolen, care-
fully double-locked the stable door
by putting in an adequate supply
of water.

It was almost three years to the
day from the time of the fire when I
had wandered where Raymond's
streets had been to the time when I
last visited the place. A new com-
munity greeted me. The old had
indeed passed away. A thriving
modern village was there with elec-
trically lighted streets and buildings,
with hydrants peeping out at every
corner, with new and handsome
stores, with two elegant churches,
and with modern and graceful resi-
dences. The village was hardly more
than a handful, vet in it was concen-

trated all that a century and a half
had produced in Raymond. Circling
around on the hills were few farms
and unproductive. Their worn-out
soil had long ago given up its most
cherished crop of humanity which
had been swallowed up by the village
and the cities. All the nervous force
of a township courses through the
ganglion of the shops and the rail-
road station. The pulse courses
hiigh of necessity. Raymond, reju-
vcenated Raymond, has become a type,
a Itype of the modern factory victory.
Tlhe keynote of existence has shrilled
up from the deep, solemn tone of the
first century to a piercing shriek of
tmodern industrialism. Its resonant
n.ete thrills the air, and the visitor
tG>-day knows that he is in a town
daiaii is " up-to-date."

INEXPRESSION.
Fred Leicis Paitee.

Oh, would my clumsy hand obey my will
And catch the radiant vision that I see

In all my dreams, then would I seize the clay
And mould a statue glorified — of thee.

And would my hand but master half the chords
That in my dreams make heavenly harmony,

Apollo's mighty lyre would ring again
To tell the fulness of mv love — to thee.

And there are lyrics throbbing in my soul,

And sweeter songs than mortal's dream can be,

But I can only look into thine eyes

And stammer out " I love, I love but thee.''

«-■

ft.

i . ..

■4.J- ,

■ .'

THE PRINCES IN THE TOWER.
7>y Edward A . Jenks.

You wander hand in hand from room to room —

On every side barred windows and dead walls ;
Dark shadows lurk in corners, and your doom

Is whispered down the grim and silent halls.
Go to your couch, my Princes ! Let the sleep

Of sweet forgetfulness sit on your eyes
And dull your ears: so may your dreams be deep,

That you may pass unconscious to the skies.

But that was O so long ago !

The princes of to-day
Are free as birds to come and go

From morn till evening gray.
They are not smothered in the tower —

Their feet are fleet as wings :
Before we know it, they are turned

From princes into kings.

THE LEGEND OF JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE.

[continued.]
By K. P. Ten ttt'y.

CHAPTER X.

IF sunshine prevailed over cloud in
Mary's life it was uwing, not so
much to moral causes, or relig-
ious disposition and the visitation of
happy spirits as to physical basis.
Welling up from within, there were
no srlooniv moods but a constitutional
inclination to take nothing at its
worst ; and, save in rare hours. Marx-
was the embodiment of fun alive.
This made her attractive to John
Levin, whose streak of jollity was
private, and carefully concealed from
most people ; even his mother knew
less than Man' of his good spirits.

Mary had just left John's com-
pany, and was in no ill-humor when
she called upon the bride.

11 I never saw a scrub, Martha, so
transformed by marriage as you are.
Here you sit in queenly state, eating
sugar with his royal highness, your
princely husband, while there is dis-
played before my critical eye, a
kitchen full of dirty dishes, and
Myra crying and laughing like an
idiot in the office. Who would have
thought it, thou priestess of the holy-
art of housekeeping, — so much more
beautiful as an art than painting or
sculpture. But really, I am jealous
of you. I have a notion, myself, to
be married."

" Really ! " said Dr. Langdon, ris-
ing, and walking slowly toward his
office door. " Really ! R.eally ! "

'Well, I never saw any one,"
exclaimed Martha, eagerly advanc-
ing with extended arms to meet her
friend, "who was so perfectly trans-
formed as you are by being in love,
to infatuation, for a man whom you
are unwilling to marry-. No wonder
yon go raving about my kitchen, or
anyr place where there 's cooking for
two going on, like a dear, sweet man-
iac that you are."

T heir greetings, long, loud, and
demonstrative, so disturbed the doc-
tor that he looked out of his office
window,- — "Well, I never! I never!"

The fisherman's daughter had, in-
deed, as this world goes, great rea-
son to be proud of her brilliant lover,
who- had aroused her to a new sense
of liter own mental powers, awaken- \
ing lier true self. It was not that
Mr. Levin was rich, enterprising,
ambitious, one of the rising men of
the colony, but he was wise ; had he
not once studied theology, — and out-
grown it all? James Glasse's half-
orphan child was indeed fortunate in
her match-making, if she would ac-
cept her fate.

" I 've almost made up my mind,
Martha, to be married," said Mary,
seating herself by the garden confec-
tion tray. " You know that I never
felt shout my mother's mandates as
you about yours. I was so young
when she was alive ; and I remember

126

LEGEND OF JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE

her as kind but never passionate in
her love, — never hot and demonstra-
tive as I am. I suppose it 's partly
on this account that her wishes have
less weight with me now. It would
be dreadful to disregard the dead,
but don't you know that the most
fearful thing dies out of mind, after a
little ? And a living, warm-hearted,
earnest, kind lover makes one forget
other things. You understand it
all."

u Poor, love-sick child," said Martha,
stroking Mary's hair the wrong way,
elaborately snarling it. ''But I do
wish you had asked my opinion
before you pulled John Levin out
upon the Misery rocks. For my
part, I should have bade you throw
away your boat-hook. You know
that I am not friendly to John
Levin."

"Martha, Martha, don't speak so.
I may never marry him, but I love
him with all my heart. You know
that you do not have to marry even
if you love, else I should have run
away with you years ago. I expect,
by loving John Levin enough, to
mend him ; for if love be always
blind, my love is not true, since I
see very clearly that he is in sad

need of a srood wife."

«->

11 I hope my dear that you will
mend him before you marry, not
after."

4i Most likely."

" You know, darling, that I was
fated to marry the doctor. I was put
down in Aunt Nabby White's magic
mirror. But in your case it 's different.
It merely happened so. You were
looking out for your father's lobster
nets ; and watching the currents play
with your line, and you caught John
Levin. Ordinarv fish- wife's luck,

you know. You are not necessarily
obliged to marrv him any more than
you would a tom-cod."

" Fate, fate ! What fate is better
than a deep and abiding affection ?
Be quiet, Martha, and quit your
drollery. I speak truly ; discovering
in myself and in John Levin, the
bauds of a foreordained friendship.
Whether the friendship shall be, or
shall not be, formulated and acknowl-
edged before a magistrate, or entered
of record, is not important. I call
you to wit that I am his foreordained
good angel, let alone good-wife. And
I accept the charge because I love to
do it; nor can I, by constraining
heaven, do otherwise."

So thev talked in the q:arden till
the doctor had pulled Myra's tooth,
and apologized to her, and till she
had cleared up the house and spread
the tea.

Martha had never thought of Mary
as being otherwise than naturally
pious, not abnormally so ; but now
she faintly detected a possible fanati-
cism up-springing in the heart of her
friend. Did she indeed entertain
whimsical notions concerning the
Infinite Mind ? Sure was Mary that
she was now guided of God ; even
though in truth she was expecting
the universe to be divinely governed
according to the will of Mary Glasse,
who sang devout hymns, and lifted
the hands of adoration, and uttered
ecstatic supplication, in her rambles
morning and evening between Black
Cove and the mouth of Jeffery's
creek.

CHAPTER XI.

Whistling homeward like a school-
boy went John Levin, after separa-
ting from Mary Glasse, upon the after-

LEGEND OF JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASS E.

127

noon of that seventeenth day of July,
when Mary had left his company to
go and call on the bride and her tem-
pestuous but jolly hearted spouse-
Had it not been decided between
them that he should at least build a
bird-cage, upon the slope of the Mas-
conomo or Great Hill near Black
Cove, whether or not the shy bird
Mary should ever deign to alight
upon the threshold ? But no sooner
was John Levin alone that day than
there welled up within him such spirit
as made him for the hour almost for-
getful of Mary.

As savagery itself, for untold ages,
has been quite equal to the calls of
life by the upsprhiging of exhaustless
fountains of purely animal vigor and
vivacity, like the renewal of perpet-
ual growth, in the heart of every
brave, so there was in John Levin's
physical force no apparent diminu-
tion by the score of years that had
gone by since he had ceased to be a
child ; he was more boy-like in spirit
than ever. In his case, however,
there was something more. If it can-
not be said that he had about him
the slightest tinge of a conceit of
divine possession, he had a little of a
poet's enthusiasm in leaning towards
life's ideal ; never neglecting the
practical, he ever cultivated the im-
aginative part of his nature.

This had made it easy for him
when a boy to give hospitable enter-
tainment to certain metaphysical no-
tions ; and although it was now so
many years since he had lost sight of
that Personality which had once
served as a center to his ideal world,
he could not yet rid himself from the
grasp which the spiritual universe
had upon him. The loss of the di-
vine personality was the less to him,

since it allowed free play to that men-
tal ecstacy, so intense and uplifting,
which filled his own soul, when now
and then he gave himself up to the
thought that he, John Levin, was an
essential part of that Mind which per-
vades the universe.

This idea is stamped by physicians
as akin to the abnormal experiences
of the asylums and dungeons of the
world, which during many genera-
tions have never been empty of pa-
tients or prisoners who have believed
themselves to personate the Son of
Man or some other ideal life ; so that
no token of essential unsoundness is
more easily read than the slightest
confusion in regard to one's personal
identity. Although, therefore, John
Levin was clear-headed and far-
sighted beyond most men in his
social, political, and mercantile gen-
eration, nevertheless he held a meta-
physical notion, which was at bottom
based upon unreason, — the assump-
tion that his true individual life was
rooted outside himself, that he was
an irresponsible fragmentary expres-
sion of the all pervasive but imper-
sonal intelligence of the universe.

Dwelling much upon this idea, it
had become to him a source of
boundless egotism, which manifested
itself in every act and motion of his
life. He believed himself to have
been so endowed from some treasure
house of mental illumination, as to
make him equal to all events.
" Who," he asked, "can match John
Levin, with his powerful physique,
and a fair fragment of the inexhaust-
ible intelligence ? "

To say that John Levin went
whistling along his homeward way,
upon that seventeenth day of July, is
to put it very mildly. His whole

128 LEGEND OE JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE.

being sang in unison with the music
of celestial spheres. And during
those moments in which he fancied
himself conscious of possessing in
large measure powers practically in-
finite, all things became even to him,
whether joy or sorrow, good or evil ;
there was no sorrow, no joy, no good,
no evil, all things were in perfect
harmony. At such times he forgot
even his passion of love for Mary
and his own impetuous nature, and
there ceased all sense of personal
struggling at odds with the world ;
and for the moment he was dimly
conscious of sharing the bliss of self-
existent, unconditioned life. So that,
as Hercules retired to solitary places
to reflect upon his divine original,
or touch the earth to renew his
strength, John Levin sometimes
threw himself upon the ground under
a wide-spreading oak, or stood im-
movable with eyes fixed upon the
sea's horizon, or gazed steadfastly
upon the orbs of heaven, silently
absorbing as he believed, new forces
out of infinite realms of spiritual
power.

It was in this way that, besides being
endowed with the physique of undy-
ing youth, John Levin believed that
he was possessed by "the spirit of the
universe," whatever that might mean.
And when he was at his best estate,
he felt little dependent upon earthly
loves. Yet, if he needed not to lean
upon any being who was also a sharer
in the infinite life, he could not but
be conscious of certain opposite pow-
ers in that universal intelligence of
which he was a part ; so that he
knew himself to be attracted by the
quiet and irresistible force of nature
toward certain other beings, and re-
pelled when brought in contact with

others. This law of polarity in his
heart, this celestial movement, led him
in rapture beyond measure to approach
Mary Glasse. When he thought of
Man*, it was as if his senses were
suspended and he was entranced.
How could such bounding pulsations
of feeling be other token than that of
fate* drawing together the predes-
tined friends ?

CHAPTER XII.

John Levin's enthusiastic day-
dreaming of his love was, however,
interrupted by his meeting the office
boy, who reported that Madam Levin
had just disembarked. Upon this
information the whistling lover
changed his tune. An ill-concealed
irony voiced itself in musical notes,
now shrill now mellow. Was it pos-
sible that this man, at thirty-five,
was a mere tassel adorning his
mother's apron strings ?

Madam would, of course, want to
know all about Mary Glasse ; as,
indeed, she did before John reached
home, since he found the widow
Adipose gushing at his mother's
elbow.

11 Why, John, what is this you
have done," exclaimed Madam, as
soon as she had kissed her son for
ten or fifteen minutes, and sat in his
lap and caressed him for fifteen more.
" How could you have done it? You
know that I am only fifty-three, and
you are thirty-six. If I am too old
to be yoiur companion in life, what
can Man- Glasse think, you being
eighteen years her senior? Why, An-
gelica here is much nearer your age."

"Am I, indeed ? " sweetly interposed
the fat widow, with an oily smile,
and an attempt to blush through the
carmine upon her cheeks.

LEGEND OF JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE.

129

"And I hear, John, that you are
going to build a house outside of
Salem. Not while I am alive, my
son. Not till I become a saint."

" What, never, mother? "

Angelica stayed to make the tea,
and to help madam unpack. ''You
are an angel, indeed," said madam
adorning the unctuous rolls upon the
corpulent widow's neck with a gold
chain and heavy cross. " See what
I have brought yon. But do not
allow the puritans to see it. You
can wear it when you attend service
with me at St. Michael's."

John Levin sent his office boy two
miles to get another boy to come post-
haste to call the widow to Salem vil-
lage upon some imaginary errand.
By such innocent device it was not
long before John was alone with his
mother. And they talked till mid-
night, mainly upon business mat-
ters.

Madam Levin's heritage, from the
Hawkins voyages of Devonshire,
was little money, and much spirit
for mercantile adventuring. Early
widowed in America, she had taken
her son from divinity, and had put
him to such legal studies over sea as
might best help him keep within the
law, in a traffic not hampered by scru-
ples ; and had then put him into
such sea-going as promised most
profit, in that age of far-venturing
pillage among foes and barbarians.

Should John marry, with so com-
petent a woman in the house as his
own mother ? So his mother asked
herself in the night watches. There
was no need of it. Or, if she should
allow it, she would do the picking
and choosing. Had she ever per-
mitted John to think for himself in
such matters? She never should,

not while she was alive. And John,
of course, was the most dutiful child
in the world.

The fitness of things, suggested by
his relation to infinite mind, indeed
demanded of John Levin, in the
night watches, implicit obedience to
the wishes of his mother, — unless the
law of polarity should by blind force
repel him from his mother and at-
tract him toward Mary Glasse.

CHAPTER XIII.

Next morning, fox-like, stole forth
John Levin from his mother's house
at daybreak, to follow the foxes upon
the curving shore. The foxes in turn
were stealing upon unwary birds, not
knowing that it was Sunday. John
Levin, however, expected to go to
church later on ; and what he really
wanted was to observe — not to shoot
— the killdeer plover and his stealthy
foe ; and to watch the purpling east,
which the fox did not appear to no-
tice. In the advancing light John
Levin saw the "looming" sea throw
the islands half out of the shining
bay, solid ledges all afloat like har-
bor buoys.

And at the moment when the pol-
ished waters most brightly reflected
the hues of the morning, he stepped
in upon the sanded floor of the ocean,
and swam or floated in the wake of
the escaping plover ; and with eyes
just above the level of the gently
rising and falling plains of silver, and
mother of pearl, and opal, he watched
the changing tints unnumbered and
unnamed. Even if his days were
practically atheistic, he half believed
that, with its enamoring visions of
beauty, this morning bath was wor-
ship ; receiving from it as he did a
certain mental glow slightly tinged

I^O

LEGEND OF JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE.

by devotion, as if the glancing waters
were for the moment touched by light
divine.

Then he walked in half- devout
dreaming, along the narrow line
which is neither land nor sea, the
tide-washed shore. In the midst of
his thoughts concerning mind and
matter, wondering whether there were
two substances or one, he was met by
Dr. Bob Langdon riding heavily
upon his black horse, hastening
slowly to answer an early profes-
sional call. The physician only
halted long enough to grasp John
Levin's hand.

"Holding, my friend, within your-
self the infinite, and having no surety
that your own personal experience of
the infinite intelligence will outlast
the day, I trust that the spirit of the
coherent universe is now illuminating
your rising and falling concepts, like
the sun gilding the wrinkled sea."

John Levin yawned, making no re-
ply. The doctor turned in his sad-
dle, allowing his horse to take one
more breath: "General views, I say,
are indicative of mental powers supe-
rior; and the generalness of your
views determines the ratio for ascer-
taining the superiority of your men-
tal powers. Am I not correct! "

44 Just so."

"I ask, then, further: Is not the
human heart the primordial point of
universal emergence and return ? And
if this be so, is not the hypothesis of
a personal creator the figment of an
indolent imagination? "

Then the doctor put spurs to Night-
hawk, and disappeared with his sad-
dle-bags, leaving John Levin to his
meditations, so aptly voiced by his
echo on horseback. Nevertheless, the
doctor's words disturbed his thoughts

— as when one is listening to the sea,
he hears the impertinent rattle of
some musketeer or a heavy salutation
gun. The theological propositions
put forth by his physician seemed to
Levin less timely, since, at the par-
ticular moment in which he had been
interrupted, he had been thinking of
Mary Glasse as a possible theological
instructor likely to have healthy in-
tuitions, or as a guide for his con-
science to whom he might habitually
refer as his ideal conception perfectly
expressing the infinite harmony.

Conscious as he was of moral
slouehimess, it seemed proper, upon
Sunday imorning, for him to resolve
to go and see her as soon as prac-
ticable — at once, unless his mother
wished no visit St. Michael. Giving
himself 'due credit for his piety in
adoring Mary Glasse, John Levin
returned, home to breakfast with his
mother.

"Will, you take Angelica and my-
self to attend worship this morning,
my son ? : ' '

1 ' Where, my dear ? ' '

' ' There is no worship except at
Marble tLarbor. There may be other
meetings, but not for worship."

"Do you think, mother, that I
could worship with the widow Adi-
pose besidie me ? ' '

"I hav/e no doubt she would dis-
tract your heart. But what's the
harm if you do n't lose your place in
the prayer-book ? ' '

"I think I could keep my thumb
at the rig-ht page."

1 v Shall, we go ? "

" Certainly. Do I not always make
your wislaes my first law ? ' '

"Certainly."

As John Levin grasped the tiller in
sailing: down the harbor towards the

LEGEND OF JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE.

the Marble head, he constantly^ gazed
upon his mother's face. It was long
since he had seen her. And his
mother's features had faded a little
in his mind after he had seen Mary.
Be that as it ma}', he could not but
look with pride upon her dark, gray
eyes, almost black, deep set, and well
apart, with under lids very full ; black
brows, finely arched, and heavy with-
out being shaggy to the end of the
outer slope ; eyes almost cavernous
when the long fringed upper lids
were open wide, — eyes laughing or
frowning all over the mobile face ;
the face easily dimpling with fun
or puckering with fretfulness, — the
cheeks and all muscles about the
mouth as sensitive as the face of the
sea to every ripple of emotion ; with
chin inclined to be double; heavy,
abundant, black hair without a thread
of silver ; with complexion clear, but
coloring easily; her figure of good
height, not slender, not stout. John
Levin looked at her now, to see
whether hard, unsympathetic lines
appeared more frequently than once,
whether cunning and craft and scorn
had often come to the surface, and
whether her fiendish elements were
getting the better of the angelic.
But his mother was as beautiful as
the morning and sweet tempered as
the sun, as they neared the rock-
bound harbor.

They had made a very early start.
No one could tell how wind and tide
might serve them, said John. The
plump Angelica had been hurried
and worried out of her life by John
asking several times whether she
was ready ; and she had embarked
in a disheveled condition under the
promise that she should have time
enough to put the finish to her rig-

ging at Captain Goodwin's before
service.

" I am so glad, Mother," said John
at the landing, "to go with you to
the Church of England service. The
excesses of the Puritans have been a
sad stumbling-block to my spiritual
life. I fear that the root of the mat-
ter is not in them."

"Just so, just so, my son."

But fingers of foam were now
clutching at the rocks more persist-
ently than in the early morning, as
though new forces were at work be-
neath the gently heaving sea; and
Jolhin, looking seaward, remarked, —
"Mother, I think that I ought to
take great pains where I moor my
boat, for I look to a change in the
weather."

"'Just so, my son."

" If you walk up to Captain Good-
win's, I '11 see you later."

'"Just so," murmured Angelica.

It is well known along shore, that
the most experienced seamen, ship-
masters even, are often without skill
in handling boats. In John Levin's
cas<e, his attempt at safe mooring re-
sulted in his being blown off across
the bay to the landing upon Jeffery's
creek in Manchester, where he went
to church with Mary Glasse, instead
of keeping company with the gross
Angelica and his idolized mother.

CHAPTER XIV.

Of course Mary Glasse did not sit
upon the same side of the meeting-
house with John Levin, two hundred
years ago. Nor did he see her pro-
file ; and he never, perhaps, disliked
her poke bonnet so much as he did
during that sermon, since he only
saw the back side of it. To Mary
Glasse the long sermon seemed pe-

132 LEGEND OF JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE.

culiarly timely and restful, so that
she went to sleep;, and so did Mar-
tha and so did Doctor Bob and his
rival, Doctor Jay, and so did El-
der Perkins, and Simeon Strait, the
school-master. In fact, when the
prolix pastor Hammersmith came to
seventeenth!}', John Levin, who was
the only one in the congregation who
did not believe one word the preacher
said, was the only one who was wide
awake. Even Babcock, the tithing-
man, responded to the monotonous
tone from the pulpit by a well-modu-
lated and genteel snore. So that
John Levin saw the entire congrega-
tion at one time sleeping the sleep of
the just, — reposing as soundly as the
dry bones of the early settlers outside
the meeting-house walls ; and the
pantheist was more than ever before
impressed with the thought that the
church was the pillow of the state.

When Elder Perkins partly recov-
ered himself and began to cease
dreaming, his eyes were fixed on
John Levin. Never was greater
change in mortal man. Possibly in a
spirit of fun, Mr. Levin's face had
become so grave and put on such an
injured look, as if the slumber of
Zion was a personal grievance to him,
that even the short, stunted minister
waked up enough to take sight at
him over the top of the high pulpit
which fenced him in. If Mr. Levin
never failed to attract the eyes of
strangers, he was now the center of
vision to all the saints : as, one after
another, they waked up, yawned de-
corously, rubbed their eyes, and be-
gan to ogle the distinguished stran-
ger.

"He is naturally a deacon," whis-
pered Babcock to Doctor Jay, who
responded with a nod and went to

sleep again, having been out late Sat-
urday night.

Could not John Levin make him-
self up at will to represent any kind
of character needful for the hour?
Had he not practised artificial per-
sonification to while away long voy-
ages ? If he set out, for a few mo-
ments, to imagine himself a deacon,
he could look like one. But when,
after service, the clerical Hammer-
smith and Elder Perkins and Doctor
Jay and Madam Godsoe and Dame
Sil vertongue hurriedly gathered
about the pious stranger, Levin sud-
denly changed his face, and looked
so like the personification of all evil
that no one dared to speak to him.
He did not know that Man- Glasse
was looking. But she was so shocked
to see the fine looking deacon in him
shrivel and give place to a demoniacal
expression, that she was henceforth
more determined than ever that she
would not marry him. Nor did she
ever fully know how this face-chang-
ing came about, till, upon acquaint-
ance, she observed that Madam Lev-
in had similar power of almost instan-
taneous transformation.

'"Come, Doctor Bob, get into my
boat with your wife," said Mr. Levin
on the doorstep. "She lies at Nor-
ton's ship- yard."

So they, with Mary, sailed for
Black cove, west of Glasse Head.
But art inexpert sailor was John Lev-
in that morning, else perverse ; for
he eouM not in such a sea land
his passengers without taking them
further, to the mouth of Chubb's
creek, where Doctor Langdon had
told him that he was prospecting for
a house-lot. The ungodly Levin
apologized for bringing them so far
that they could not lunch at James

LEGEND OF JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE.

133

Gfcsse's house ; and he straightway
produced a kettle and two lines as
soon as all were landed upon the
east bank. In a few minutes he
and the doctor had cunners enough
to fry, with a parcel of new potatoes
which they pulled out of Knapp's
field, near by ; and then they all
lunched under the walnuts at the
water side.

During these operations the face of
Levin was not wicked, nor very de-
vout, but rollicking all over ; and he
even danced alone around the pot,
before asking the sober company to
partake.

"How did you like. the minister,
John?" asked Martha, throwing the
skeleton of a eunuer over her shoul-
der into the hazel bushes.

■ " Well, if you will give keen edge
to my jack-knife, I '11 whittle out a
better minister for you, as soon as
I 've finished these fish."

" For my part, I enjoyed the ser-
mon very much indeed," replied the
doctor, suiting his action to the word,
by closing his eyes and breathing
heavily as he. did in sermon time.

"Mary," asked Levin, "at what
point did you go to sleep, and what
waked you up ? "

But Mary was too much of a Puri-
tan to respond in like spirit, upon
Sunday ; and she soon turned the
conversation into courses which she
fancied more befitting the day, —
although less drowsy than her pas-
tor's sermon. At least she was more
wide awake in conversation than
under preaching.

" I don't see, Martha," said Levin,
"how you can sleep, if you believe
what the minister was saying."

" What did he say ? "

If John Levin ever perverted any-

thing in his life, it was his report of
that sermon, the part to which his
auditors had nodded assent. It
sounded plausible, just like the
preacher ; but the doctrine was John
Levin's, — a singular mixture of illog-
ical dogmatic propositions, and scrip-
ture texts slightly misquoted. And
then, when his auditors entered pro-
test, he added : "I told you that I
would whittle out a wooden-headed
preacher for you. Have I not done
it?"

Without a suspicion, in his limit-
less egotism, that Mary Glasse had
been taking his measure, John Levin
sailed over the bay to meet his
mother. Moody and reckless he sat
at the tiller; whistling now sadly,
now defiantly, till favoring winds
brought him to easy landing at the
foot of the garden at Goodwin's.

CHAPTER XV.

The mercurial and politic Madam
Levin did not after all object to her
son's attending the established church
of England, New rather than Old. It
would evidently serve him better in
a business way to attend the Congre-
gational conventicles ; who could
tell how many clients he might have
won that Sunday morning ? Besides,
the ritual of her childhood was disap-
pointing to her, when St. Michael
had to hold services in a private
house. Perhaps John had better
stick to the regular meeting-houses
for the present, particularly since he
had secured the freedom of the Epis-
copal people from being taxed to sup-
port puritanism.

And madam was the less inclined
to quarrel with her son for leaving
her so long, since she had been as
busy as a bee, in leisure hours of the

134 LEGEND OF JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE.

day, in gathering gossip-honey from
the flower of Marble Head society;
having adroitly rid herself of the com-
pany of the somewhat tiresome Adi-
pose, who spent most of the day in
Mistress Goodwin's guest chamber,
dressing her hair and making beau-
catchers.

There is at this hour, under the
sidewalk of Waterway in Salem, an
old well, walled with circular bricks
which John , Levin imported from
England. At : its opening, a few
years ago, when the walk was laid,
it was found that the entire face of
the bricks was covered with a net-
work of roots from an elm near by,
which in search of moisture had pen-
etrated the porous brick. The Levin
garden enclosed this well before the
street was cut through. In the sum-
mer-house which covered this well,
sat John Levin and his mother alone
upon this Sunday evening of the
eighteenth day of July. They spent
the twilight in going over the points
of their business investments ; to
which the most exacting Puritan
could not object, since the twain
had "kept" Saturday night — well
enough as they thought. To be sure,
even if their business consultations
had trenched upon the hours of Sun-
da}- , what could have been more suit-
able to the day than what was said
about their Christianizing negroes by
taking them out of pagan Africa and
planting them in Anglo Saxon homes ?

"Can anything be more benefi-
cent? " asked madam.

" Nothing

answered her son,

"unless it be my thoughtfulness in
relieving the Simon idiots of the care
of all their foolish father left them."

"Did you do that? "

" What else could I do? If I had

not done so, it would have all been
wasted, every penny of it. They
do n't know how to manage property."

"Of course not. I'm glad you
got it. Now, John, do you know,"
added his mother, bending forward
and bringing her face nearer to her
son's, and looking into his eyes
which were emitting strange fire in
the deepening shades of the hour,
"do you know that our amiable
Angelica has almost persuaded me
to move to Boston ? ' '

"What! Boston?"

1 ' Yes, she says that Boston society
is better than ours."

"But there's no business in Bos-
ton to speak of. No person of any
mercantile or legal ambition would
leave Salem for Boston."

Madam arose, and looked out upon
the tranquil moon over the restless
sea.

" I am quite sure, my son, that
you have a talent to succeed any-
where, everywhere, and our residence
shall be fixed according to your judg-
ment not my fancy. — By the way, I
forgot to ask you what success the
Hawly had upon the last voyage ? "

"She took three chickens, — one
French and two Spanish, well feath-
ered."

"Very good. Now let me look
into your eyes, my son." The affec-
tionate woman drew to herself her
son. and embraced him. " I see the
angel looking out at the windows of
your eyes, my son."

" Is this real praise, Mother, or is
it every-day irony ? ' '

" It 's the truth, — the angel of love
to your mother."

" That is true. I always keep this
good angel in my eyes to look out my
daily path for me."

LEGEND OF JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE.

*35

"Tell me, then, my son, about
your prospects of . political prefer-
ment which we talked about before
your unfortunate sailing to ship-
wreck."

It had been fixed in Madam
Levin's mind that her son would in
the new world rise to great influence,
as indeed he did. Mother and son
were naturally toadies, and tools for
tyranny ; so that the son was making
the most of the royal governor ; and
what conscience he had he put into
his efforts to secure adherence to
the forms of law, on the part of a lib-
erty-loving people, who were likely
to be turbulent if legal forms were
not to. their minds. And John Levin
was foremost in the attempt to make
head against what was deemed by
many to be the undue power of the
ministers, by combining the mer-
chants and the lawyers and develop-
ing their social and political ener-
gies.

It had greatly gratified Madam
Levin's vanity that her son, in
place of being the poetic dreamer
and theological pedant he had
promised to be when in college,
had come to be so thrifty in busi-
ness and of so decided a taste for
politics. But professional politics in
that age meant little else than the
hunting for place as a basis for plun-
der,— little else than another form of
that gentleman-piracy which was en-
riching so many families, by spoiling
the private citizens of those countries
which were the traditional enemies
of England, or robbing savage tribes
who had no more right than might.

"Let those take who have the
power; let those keep who can,"
quoth madam, as she gathered up
their wraps to go into the parlor.

After the candles were lighted,
John was requested by his maternal
ancestor to tell her all about Mary
Glasse, to whom he owed his saving
from the sea ; and he told her, or
professed to, all he knew about her,
and his own relations to her, — told
it all with that deceitful frank-heart-
edness which his mother understood
the better since she had been his
teacher in the art.

Knowing that she knew now no
more than she did before her hopeful
had informed her on this subject,
madam said, — "I know that Mary
will not marry you. That's what
Angelica says, and she knows. But
what do you want to many* for?
What do you really, at bottom,
care, whether or not 3-011 have any
friends,' — that is, if you make sure to
befriend yourself ? And you know
that I will always be your friend."
Then she suddenly changed her tone,
and great tears stood in her eyes :
"You know that your mother loves
you. I do not want you to marry
Mary Glasse. Now tell me that you
will not." And she took John by
the hand, and paused for reply.

" I will not. I will give up the idea.
I do not care anything about it. But
do tell me why you insist on it."

Madam, knowing that her son had
no notion whatever of giving up the
idea, suppressed her artificial tears,
and quietly went on with her state-
ment of reasons: "Mary Glasse is
too much like you. You want one
of the opposites when you marry.
That's the way your dear papa and
I did. Besides, in all that in which
she differs from you, she is undesir-
able for a mate. She is a woman of
ideals, of too much conscience, an
impracticable woman ; she would

136 BY OLD STAMBOUL.

ruin your business, if she knew it as "Her? I can not." And John

I know it. Some women are relig.- hastily rose up to kiss his mother

ious fanatics, and others are fools ; good night.

of the two, marry the fool. There's "Can not? Can-nots and will-
Adipose, for instance, a fool, but nots slip as easy as bow-knots."
thrifty. Why don't you marry her ? " And she blew out the candles.

[to be continued.]

BY OLD STAMBOUL.

Frederick Myron Colby.

Slowly over the silver tide
We drifted — I and my Eastern bride ;
The sun shone low in the golden west,
The waters lay — a haven of rest —
Only stirred by the dip of the oar
In the hands of our Nubian rower,
As on we drifted by old Stamboul,
Past scented gardens and kiosks cool,

And my bride sang low,

And our boat moved slow,
As on we drifted by old Stamboul.

Under the low Byzantine skies
I watched the gleam of her Orient eyes
As they rested on dome and minaret.
On bright- walled towers like jewels set
In the crown of a queen, tins gay Stamboul,
With its flowers and flashing fountains cool,
Its odors of olive, myrrh and musk,
That scented the air from dawn to dusk,
Its glimpses of fair Circassian girls
With supple limbs and silken curls, —
Houris of a Moslem's paradise,
Where the daytime all too quickly flies
In dreams of bliss and hours of ease,
And Nature employs all her arts to please.
Languid and dreamy we drifted on
In the blaze of the westering sun,
Past the towers of old Stamboul,
Past emerald bower and flashing pool,
And my bride sang low,
And our boat moved slow,
As on we drifted by old Stamboul.

BY OLD STAMBOUL. 137

Beneath the roseate sunset sky

We drifted on, my love and I,

Beyond the old Byzantine town,

Beyond the height called Michael's Crown,

Past open courts where parrots screamed,

And latticed screens where maidens dreamed,

To where uprose his cool retreat,

And soothing fountains charmed to sleep

The senses of an Orient kinsr.

As if bewitched by magic ring.

We smelled the breath of balsam trees,

We felt the coolness of the breeze,

And all the glories of the past

Like opals from the centuries cast,

Swept in upon our drowsy eyes,

Beneath those lurid, eastern skies,

As on we drifted by old Stamboul,

Through scented calm and shadows cool,

And my bride sang low,

And our boat moved slow,
As on we drifted by old Stamboul.

We heard the tinkling of a lute
That made all other music mute,
And, by and by, from off the shore
A fairy bark its burden bore
Adown-the sleepless, gleaming tide,
Perchance the lover with his bride.
And denser still the shadows grew,
And fainter gleamed the hills of blue,
Guarding this scene of fairy land
Like sentries rising from the strand,
Begirt with castles, strong and old,
Well-guarded by the Moslem bold.
And now the forests downward swept
To where the placid waters crept ;
And onward, onward, like a dream,
Our shallop floated down the stream,
'Midst purple mists and shadows cool,
By the storied walls of old Stamboul,

And my bride sang low,

And we drifted slow,
As our shallop floated by old Stamboul.

ENVOY.

Sweet is the memory of those hours
When we sailed past those fairy bowers,

133

SEWALL'S FALLS HISTORICALLY CONSIDERED.

And saw the graceful kiosks rise
Beneath the opalescent skies ;
But sweeter yet was the long-drawn kiss
I took from lips, with a lover's bliss,
As we sat amidst the shadows cool,
The nisrhi we drifted by old Stamboul.

SEWALL'S FALLS HISTORICALLY CONSIDERED.
By Otis G. Hammond.

r pHE name of Sewall's Falls is an
old one, like many others of our
immediate neighborhood, and it
has a connection and a meaning. In
the days of our early history, men
did not name a bit of nature as now
they sometimes do a child or a pet
dog, merely from a fancy for a eupho-
nious combination of letters, without
any regard to its probable fitness ;
but such names were applied as
would indicate either the ownership
of the property, or, if this was not
possible, its most prominent natural
characteristic. In this way Rattle-
snake hill was so named, because it
was full of rattlesnakes ; Horse- Shoe
pond and Long pond, because of
their outlines ; many others might
be mentioned but these are locally
familiar and sufficient for the pur-
pose.

Sewall's Falls belongs in the class
receiving names from owners of the
property, or in this case, of adjoining
lands. On the 29th of November,
1695, "Samuel Sewall and Hannah
his wife Daughter & Heir of John
Hull Esqr late of Boston deceased"
sent a petition to the general court
of the province of the Massachusetts
Bay, representing that, at a session of
the general court held at Boston, May

6, 1657. a grant of one thousand acres
of land was made to John Endicott,
at that time governor of the province,
"to be laid out unto Him in any
place not prejudicing former Grants :
and is in lieu of Seventy five pounds
by him and his Wife in the general
Adventure." The petitioners then
stated that on the 9th of March,
J65S, John Endicott and his wife,
Elizabeth, sold that tract of land to
John Hull, father of Samuel Sewall's
wife, Hannah, for the sum of fifty
pounds ; or rather he sold the title
to that amount of land granted him
by the general court, as the land had
never been selected and laid out.
Under the right derived from this
purchase the petitioners had selected
five hundred acres of land "at Pen-
nicook on the North- East side of
Merrimack River," surveyed and laid
out by Jonathan Danforth, a noted
surveyor of that day, and now prayed
that this tract might be confirmed to
them in part satisfaction for the thou-
sand acres originally granted to John
Endicott.

Their petition was read in council
on the 29th of November, 1695, and
the prayer thereof. was granted; the
House of Representatives concurred
on the *d of. December, and the

SEWALVS FALLS HISTORICALLY CONSIDERED.

grant was completed by the brief, but
necessary, " I consent, \V m Stough-
ton."

A further perusal of Sewall's peti-
tion discovers the following clause :
"And whereas no Land has been
laid out & allowed nor other Com-
pensation made to the s d John Endi-
cott. Ksqr, Elizabeth his Wife, or to
the s d John Hull Esqr or any of their
Heirs or Assigns. (That granted to
your Petitioners Nov r S, 1693. being
included in a Grant of all Mericoneg
Neck to Harvard Colledge as now
appears) ; " and the entry by which
the grant asked for is allowed Nov.
2 9» I 695, mentions the five hundred
acre farm petitioned for as " Part of
a Grant of One thousand Acres Con-
firmed to them upon an Ancient
Grant made unto John Endicott Esq r
then Goveruour, and Purchased by
the said John Hull, And formerly
sett forth unto the Petitioners at
Merrieoneg neck in Casco bay upon
the said Grant, Appearing to be
before granted unto Harvard Col-
ledge."

By which it appears that the peti-
tioners had fixed upon a location for
their property at ''Merrieoneg neck
in Casco bay," and had obtained a
confirmation of it on the Sth of
November, 1693 ; but upon later ex-
amination it was found that the
whole of the Neck had been pre-
viously granted to Harvard College,
which made their later grant of part
of the same territory void. Then it
was that they fell back upon an old
location confirmed to John Endicott
in 1668.

From a careful examination of all
the documents available, relating to
this case, it would seem that, as
Judge Sewall affirms in his petition.

the farm of a thousand acres granted
to John Endicott was never selected
and surveyed as a whole. In the
same petition, he makes the state-
ment that, on the 9th of March, 1658,
Governor Endicott and Elizabeth, his
wife, sold the title to that tract of
land to John Hull, father of Samuel
Sewall's wife, for fifty pounds. Not-
withstanding this reported sale, the
Massachusetts Court Records of May
27, 1668, contain the following de-
scription of a tract of land laid out
to John Endicott :

"Laid out to Jn° Endecot Esq r
Gov r no r five hundred acres of land
in the wilderniss at Pennicooke one
part or parcell of the same conteyning
thirty six acres more or lesse lieth
upon an Island in the said River of
merrimacke which Island lyeth at
the very farthest end of that place
Called Pennicooke alsoe one part or
parcell of the same Conteyning fower
hundred sixty fower acres more or
lesse lyeth upon the aforesaid River
on the east side of it it begins at the
North East End of that Intervaile, at
a great pine standing by merrimack
side marked w' h J I and from this
pine it runns doune the River by a
crooked line five hundred thirty
fower pole, where it is bounded by
an elme a great one standing by the
side of the bancke markt as before
w* h J I from thence it runns to the
high upland almost upon an East &
by north Point two hundred siventy
six pole unto a stake standing in a
swampish peece of Ground a tree
standing behind it eastward marked
w th J I : and from thence it runs to
the first pine wch is fower hundred
fifty fower pole also there is two
very smale Islands laid to it one
lieth betweene this land, & the great

140

SEWALUS FALLS HISTORICALLY CONSIDERED.

Island w ch Conte ; ns by estimation
about twelve pole and another Island
wch lieth on the north west of the
first Conteyning about sixteene or
twenty pole by estimation all weh is
more fully demonstrated by a plott

taken of the same by Jonathan Dan-
forth Surveyor the court Approves of
this returne/' '

The following plan of the tract of
land just described is found in Mas-
sachusetts Archives, Vol. 45, p. 22S :

{Mass. Archi/es Vol 45, p. 228.]

SEWALVS FALLS HISTORICALLY CONSIDERED.

As the general court of Massachu-
setts often allowed grantees to select
their land in two or more places, if
they could not find the whole amount
of suitable land in one tract, Judge
Sewall evidently intended to locate
half the land in Penacook, and the
other half where he might afterwards
find a suitable place, but whether he
ever petitioned for the other five hun-
dred acres or not we are not able to say.
If Governor Endicott sold the title
to the whole thousand acres to John
Hull in 165S, it is difficult to explain
why, ten years afterwards, in 166S, a
half of that tract was located and laid
out to John Endicott and not to John
Hull who had bought it ; unless it
might be inferred that the governor
allowed the use of his name as an
agent for John Hull, the more easily
to secure the confirmation of the
gTant, and to save the confusion of
the case by bringing into use the
deeds of transfer, or for other reasons
not now known to us. This theory
is given some foundation by the fact
that the records show no trace of any
other grant of land to Governor Endi-
cott. It may be, however, that Mr.
Sewall was a little misty in regard
to the dates given in his petition.

The above-described tract of land
is evidently the farm petitioned for
and obtained by Samuel Sewall in
1695. The farm was situated on the
east side of the river, and the island
of thirty-six acres is the one since
known as Sewall' s island, lying a
short distance below the falls, and
embraced between the present main
channel of the river and what is com-
monly known as the "old river" or
"old channel." Its form as an island
is now somewhat obscured, as it is
crossed north and south bv the track

of the Northern Railroad which con-
nects it with the mainland at both
ends. The larger of the two smaller
islands remains in the old channel,
but the other has disappeared. Dr.
Boston says that the farm embraced
the island known by that name, and
the intervales, with some upland east
of it, including the farms now (1856)
owned by Mr. Samuel B. Larkin,
Samuel B., and John Locke, and
what is known as the Thatcher farm.
This tract of land proved a great
stumbling block in the way of our
first settlers, as it was situated in the
very center of the township and com-
prised about all the land capable of
settlement and cultivation there was
to fee found along the east side of the
rfrner. Two hundred acres of it was in-
teirvale land, lying along the bank of
the. river, the rest being upland back
fro 111 the river. The grant of the town-
ship of Penacook, from the general
cou.it of Massachusetts, dated Jan.
17, 1 725-' 26, stipulated, among other
thnngs, that the first fifty settlements
should be made on the east side of
the river. But on the 15th of June,
172*6, the settlers petitioned the court
for the privilege of making their set-
tlements on the west side of the river,
and! also asked for an equivalent for
the fwe hundred acres of land for-
merly granted to Governor Endicott,
which fell within their bounds. On
the 24th of the same June, William
Taylor, from the committee on the
Penacook settlement, reported the
progress of their affairs, and said,
1 ' upon View and Strict Survey of
the lands on the East Side of Merri-
mack we find that there is little or no
Water, — The Land near the River
exiream Mountains and almost Im-
passible And very unfit for and unca-

142

SEWALDS FALLS HISTORICALLY CONSIDERED.

pable of Receiving Fifty Families as
the Court has ordered, more espe-
cially considering That near y e Cen-
tre of the Town on y" East Side of
the River Merrimack, The Hon' 1 "
Sam ' Sewall Esq 1 " has a Farm of Five
Hundred Acres of Good Land for-
merly granted by this Court and laid
out to Governour Endicott." The
committee then reported that they
had laid out one hundred and three
lots on the west side of the river, and
recommended that an equivalent for
the Sewall farm of five hundred acres
be granted and laid out adjacent to
the town.

This matter evidently not being
immediately attended to, the settlers
themselves petitioned for this equiv-
alent on the 6th of December, 1726.
asking to be allowed to extend the
south bounds of the township one
hundred rods, the full breadth of the
town. The house immediately voted
to grant the petition, and sent their
vote to the council where it was non-
concurred. On the 10th of June,
1727, the house sent another like
vote to the council, where it met the
same fate as its predecessor. On the
16th of the following December, John
Osgood, in behalf of the Penacook
settlers, sent in another petition for
an equivalent, with other privileges,
which was likewise allowed by the
house and non-concurred in council.
The reason of the disapproval of all
these votes by the council seems to
be that the same votes contained a
clause by which the five pounds,
which was to be paid by each settler
when he drew his lot, was to be
remitted in view of their heavy ex-
penses of settlement ; and it was not
until the 5th of August. 172S, that
the house passed a vote allowing the

settlers to extend the south bounds
of their township one hundred rods
along its full width, and making no
mention of the five pounds remit-
tance. This vote was read in coun-
cil the next day, and immediately
concurred and signed by Governor
Burnet. Thus did this old grant,
ma.de eighty years before, disturb the
minds of our earliest settlers.

The head line or the northwestern
boundary of the Masonian patent
crossed the Merrimack river at Sew-
all's Falls. This is shown by the
report of the committee appointed by
the legislature to run the ' ' straight
line,' 1 as it was called, of the Mason-
ian claim-, as entered in the House
journal, February 1, 1788. The com-
mittee consisted of John McDuffee
and Archibald McMurphy, and they
employed Joseph Blanchard and
Charles Clapham as surveyors. The
line was to connect a point sixty
miles inland on the southern bound-
ary of this state with another point
the same distance inland on our east-
ern boundary. In describing the
course of their survey the committee
state that " this line crosses Merrimac
river in Concord on Sewalls Falls."

The place to-day bears no trace of
its original owner, the old governor,
but it came into other and more ac-
tive hands, whence the island therein
once contained, and the falls just
above, derived their names. They
come to us, after nearly two hundred
years of existence, and, like many
others we speak of day after day, are
full of historical and traditional asso-
ciations which we never dream of
until some must}' book-worm un-
earths their secrets and thrusts them
upon our notice, and then we wonder
why nobody ever thought of it before.

/«.

AN IMPERISHABLE EPITAPH.
By Frank L. PhaUn.

When I am dead,
And silent lie low in my narrow bed
I ask not that the world shed tears,
And raise o'er me a monument of stone ;

But this I pray, —

That men may truly say,

He was a man !

His heart was warm and true ;
And,* in this earthly life of ours,

He did a noble part
To soothe sad sorrow's heart, —

To heal the sick,

And cure the bitter smart

Of sin and pain.

He was a man,
And did what manhood could
To make sublimely real our dream of good,

This be my epitaph,

And this alone,
Written on human hearts,
Not carved on crumbling stone.

OUR STORE OF OLD LETTERS.

By Marian Douglas.

THREE sisters, my grandmother, to-day. It was a Puritan family in

my great-grandmother, and my ali its associations, with the blood

grandaunt, came to Concord in and belief of the Mayflower Whites.
Colonial days, followed a little later Ann Hazen was a kinswoman of

by their brother, my great-grand- the clear-headed Baileys and Hazens,

uncle. They were children of Sam- to whom the new Haverhill, on the

uel Ayer and Ann Hazen, whose Connecticut, owes its existence. She

strong homestead, still a pleasant possessed a vivid personality, which

dwelling place, not yet in alien has made her the best remembered of

hands, is standing in old Haverhill our ancestors. Quick of thought and

OUR STORE OF OLD LETTERS.

strong in purpose, she spun and
wove, and baked and brewed, and
vigorously drilled her eleven children
in "the three R's " whenever the
schoolmaster (as he often did), failed
to appear. The children she gave to
New Hampshire were an honor to
her.' The son, Richard, was a valued
citizen ; and the three sisters, Mrs.
John Kimball, Mrs. John Bradley,
and Mrs. (Doctor) Peter Green, were
recalled by those who knew them,
the one for her blended dignity and
loveliness, one for a keen intellectual
vision that saw beyond her time, and
one for an unfading beauty, unknown
to modern days, with brilliant eyes,
and cheek that ' ' shamed the lily and
the rose."

There were in the second gener-
ation a large class of cousins, with
much visiting and merry-making
when they were together, and sending
of messages and letters when apart.
Everybody used in those days to
hoard letters, and a large chest full
of such spoil has lain for years under
our garret eaves. Some of the oldest
of these are found in a packet of let-
ters written by her young friends to
my Aunt Patty in her girlhood.
They must have been delightful to
receive, full of honied flatteries and
protestations of devotion, and rather "
gain than lose from here and there a
very obvious attempt at fine writing.

"Though my style is not florid,
friendship is the foundation on which
I build," plead Charlotte Odlin from
Exeter, in 1794.

Betsey Abbott, apparently a
sprightly Concord girl, away from
home, writes, in July, 1796, that she
had just spent "the Fourth in Am-
herst. The exercises began at nine
in the morning. An oration was

delivered hx a M r . Howard. The
music was really deliteful." She
had been to a tea-drinking at Colonel
Meanes's of Amherst, and seen my
Uncle Peter, then a clerk in Colonel
Meanes's store.

" M ra Meanes," she says, "shew
me Peter's gardain. It was a small
spot of ground ajoining the flower-
gardain. In one corner of it grew a
peculiar kind of peas polled in a very
nice manner. M rs Meanes told your
brother that she apprehended from
the growth and situation of those peas
that he would be a bacheldore."

In Weare, where she was then
staying, "lacking what is every
requisite to human happiness, a
bosom friend," reading and walking
were her principal amusements.
"The situation," she says, "is very
favorable for the latter, and it is an
amusement of which I was always
very fond. A few rods from our
house nature has placed a majestic
hill, half a mile in length. It lies in
the form of a tray. Its ascent is very
gradual at one end, which makes it
very agreeable walking. On the
sumit we have a very pleasing and
extensive prospect. One side of it is
covered with beautiful honeysuckle
which diffuses a pleasing flavour to
the rambler ; the other checkered
with wheat, rye, oats, &c. At one
end of my favorite hill is a delightful
row of poplars which extends to the
foot. Then a clear, transparent
stream separates the hill from a field
of mowing. There is something pe-
culiarly pleasing in the motion of the
poplar leaf. I contemplate it with a
great deal of satisfaction."

The "honeysuckle" was doubtless
white clover. It was customary in
old times to call it so. " Weare resi-

OUR STORE OF OLD LETTERS.

145

dents can probably recognize the
"hill."

Both these letters began, "My
amiable friend," but the four next
dates open with (what was also com-
mon) the first sentence. " I was just
agoing," begins Eliza Sweeters, "to
take tea at Mrs. Sprague's, when
your Par came in with your interest-
ing letter."

"A few words, my friend," com-
mences Nancy D wight, afterward the
second wife of Rev. Dr. McFarland,
"to assure you of my continued
friendship, and reprove your long
silence. Why is your pen so long
laid aside? Resume it, Patty, and
cheer the spirits of your far distant
friend."

She was, we are sure, a most charm-
ing girl, who, in 1799, had just re-
turned from a visit to Concord to her
native home and the shades of sim-
plicity in Belchertown ; and still she
longed, "in her wakeful hours, to
call and chat awhile beneath the
elms." .

"Patty," she prays, "when seated
under them, employ a thought of
your friend, to whom the memory of
them, and the hours spent under
them, are very pleasing."

The elms wave as fair and as beau-
tiful as of old, but the glad, young
girls speak only to our thought in a
few yellowed pages. "The shades
of simplicity " were not unlighted by
social pleasures. She had been to a
stage-ride of twenty or thirty miles
with a party of eight or ten, " visited,
or rather called on, a number of
friends, and returned the next day ; "
and had attended a Belchertown ball,
" where were

' Many a youth and many a maid
Dancing in the checkered shade.'

as Milton says." " We had a very
good ball," she adds, perhaps with a
memory of some unusually pleasant
partner. One of her letters closes
with a conceit very common in some
form at that time : " Excuse this has-
ty scrip, and accept the sincere friend-
ship and LOVE of Nancy Dwight."

A letter of Eliza Sweeters, in 1797,
is characteristic of the time. She
lived in Lancaster, Mass., and says:
" I wrote the two last times your
good Par was in town, but did not
know when he intended leaving, and,
owing to this, my poor scrolls were
deprived of a conveyance, and I com-
mitted them to the flames." " I sup-
pose you have been told that Sally is
metamorphosed into a wife. Yes,
Patty, she has voluntarily enslaved
herself, but, as for me, I am free
as when you were here in regard
to the lads." In all these letters
the words par and mar, or papa
and mama, are constantly used.
Father and mother seemed to have
been kept for formally addressing
one's parents. "Metamorphosed"
was a very fashionable word then,
and for twenty years after. '

It seemed as if the young lady cor-
respondents specially exercised their
ingenuity to find place for it. The
poverty of the people generally is
shown by the perfect openness with
which these young women speak of
waiting for "chances" to send their
missives, none of which have post-
marks. The mail was apparently
too costly to think of employing for
mere letters of friendship. "The
only reason of my not writing,"
says Sarah McFarland of Worcester,
apparently some relation of the good
minister, " was want of opportunity,"
"except," she adds, "by mail."

i 4 6

OUR STORE OF OLD LETTERS.

The postage in 1S01 on a double
letter from New York to Boston was
thirty-four cents, and on one from
Belehertown to Concord, twelve and
a half. This last was one of those
carefully-worded , elegantly- w r i 1 1 e n
notes that marked the gentlemen of
the time, and was from a Justus For-
ward, who wrote in regard to the
death of the first Wm. MeFarland,
who, early left an orphan, appears to
have been his ward. He describes her
as most lovely, and "of a cheerful
disposition, though not so airy as
some.''

1 80 1 is the date of one of "Aunt
Sally's" many beautiful letters. The
love of Concord was a ruling passion
through all her long life, which was
chiefly spent at the house of her
father, the old Kimball homestead
on North Main street. She was
visiting in Coventry, and writes :
"You wish me not to stay until I
forget my friends in Concord. No.
Patty ; I must outstay time itself to
do that, although my present situa-
tion is so agreeable that I can
scarcely think of leaving it. Here
I find all the charms of rural life,
and for me rural life has many
charms. The mountains, the brooks,
the birds, the flowers, all are pleas-
ing. Nature meant me for a country
life or she would never have bestowed
such an awkward air upon me in
company." Those who remember
her beautiful old age, believe the
traditions of her charming youth,
and doubt not her "awkwardness"
was only a fascinating timidity.

1 80 1 is also the last date in the
worn and yellow roll marked, " Let-
ters concerning our Brother, Peter
Green." One of the earliest Sons of
the Revolution, born the same sum-

mer as the Declaration of Independ-
ence, lie was in 1796 the predicted
"bacheldore" of Betsey Abbott's let-
ter, a boy of twenty, handsome, and
with a quick sense of the refinements
and courtesies of life, just preparing
in New Hampshire's Amherst to
launch his tiny craft on the treach-
erous sea of trade. Never were busi-
ness ventures, great or small, more
hazardous than then : with every-
thing connected with commerce full
of uncertainty ; England seeking in
every way to retard the progress of
her rebellious and victorious child,
and France, for the sake of past
favors, demanding our assistance in
all her mad escapades ; with great
cost and difficulty attending the in-
land transit of merchandise, and with
cruel and unjust laws against debt-
ors, when debt was often almost un-
avoidable ; and yet with new town-
ships springing up all about, and
constant and alluring opportunities
for speculation well fitted to deceive
even the wariest.

Peter's letters began, "Honored
Father," and were signed either
"your obedient" or "your dutiful
son." The style was nearly perfect
and the penmanship exquisite, not at
all like the hap-hazard writing of the
present day. He writes from Milford,
where he had just gone in 1798, in
a glow of anticipated success, "I am
more than ever convinced of the ad-
vantage of putting money into trade.
My business increases rapidly. I am
very sorry you cannot help reap the
fruits of it."

But in 1S00 his poor little barque
seems to have capsized. He is then
about setting out from New York "on
a long journey on business for a gen-
tleman of that city, a Quaker, and a

OUR STORE OF OLD LETTERS.

147

very clever man " ; and in 1S01, back
from his travels, he writes his brother,
Samuel, in Boston, that "he had been
taken by the French," — a frequent
fate at that time of ventures by sea, —
that ''he was just out of prison, and
would tell particulars when . tfeey
should meet," and suggests the pos-
sibilities — a common dream then — of
going to the West Indies to trade.
"Flour," he says, "is twenty-four
dollars the barrel at St. Croix."

It did not matter. After this came
the shadow and silence, and then the
rumor of his death by yellow fever in
.Philadelphia. The particulars oi his
end were never known, though as
late as 1803 the revered Dr. Benja-
min Rush wrote to my grandfather,
from the Quaker city, of making
efforts to learn them from the sex-
tons of the churches. "I sympa-
thize," he says, "with your anxiety
and distress. I am a father." No
words could have been more simple,
yet blent perhaps with the text, " Like
as a father pitieth his children." I
think they must have come like a
soothing touch to my poor- grand-
father's heart as he jogged about on
his faithful horse from one patient's
doorway to another's. The doctor's
profession is a good one for a sad
man. He is not always striking
sonip discordant note of joy. The
sorrow of his spirit finds relief In
seeking to heal the physical suffer-
ings of others.

In these same years, clear-headed,
strong, cautiously moving, step by
step, Peter's cousin, Hazen Kimball,
was endeavoring to build up a place
for himself as a merchant in Savan-
nah.

"There is," he writes in 1805 to
his brother, Benjamin, my grand-

father, "a few articles [for sale] that
will answer from your place. Gar-
den seeds would, I think, do better
than anything else that I now recol-
lect. Should you see my Shaker
friends, Wright or Edgerly. you may
tell them that I could sell almost any
quantity they could raise. Sally men-
tioned that all the tickets I bought in
the Atkinson academy were blanks.
I have three more whose numbers I
send."

He was a strong Federalist, and, in
1 $05, his party in New Hampshire
had gone down before their opponents.
"It gives me real pain," he says, "to
think that a near relative of ours, and
one I have always loved, should be
anio.ing them. When last in Concord,
I wished to talk with him on politics,
but H did not. There will, there must
be, a change."

Tib ere is another roll of worn and
tear-stained pages, marked ' ' Letters
concerning our brother Thomas
Greene." The earliest three of these
(twoj sent by mail, with a postage of
sevetateen cents each), were from
Hall-Dwell, Maine, where Uncle Tom,
a restless boy of sixteen, had been
sent, partly, I conjecture, because
of Richardson kinsfolk living in
the vicinity ; partly because Concord
offered neither proper schooling nor
employment for the striving lad. In
Maiir.e he was apparently learning,
not as a bound apprentice, to make
some kind of ware. Potteries at this
time- were springing up everywhere,
and already near the salt waves and
the shipbuilders he had begun to lis-
ten tio the luring of the sea. Per-
haps he nad heard it before, when
he had sat by the red firelight in his
father's kitchen, and read the stories
of travel, discovery, and adventure,

148

OUR STORE OF OLD LETTERS.

in "The World Displayed," twenty
stout little volumes with brown-
leather covers, the choicest treasures
on the family book-shelves.

Poor Tom was very homesick. In
one letter he complained that his
employer objected "to giving him
time for play," and hurt his dig-
nity "by setting him to wash the
chaise." In the second letter he in-
timates that the "seas are handy in
case of his leaving." In the third
he declared his intention of "going
on a voyage as soon as he had learned
his trade." In the fourth he had
taken his fate in his hand, left his
place, and "being determined to try
the sea before he came home," had
"shipped on board the schooner
Drummore, bound for Jamaica," and
was just back from his first cruise.
He had followed his own stout will,
against advice, no doubt, but the
boy's warm heart shrank from giving
pain or anxiety to those he loved,-
and he seems to have looked every-
where for some argument that would
comfort and satisfy the dear ones at
home. He thought of the sermons
in the old North church, and seized
upon the doctrine of the immutable
decrees as a bright and helpful
thought. "Sir," he says, "I never
wish you, or ma, or any of my broth-
ers and sisters to feel uneasy about
me. We shall all have to dye some
day. I shall dye no sooner by sea
than I should by land. When the
Almighty sees fit to take me away, I
must go. Sir ; it is more pleasure
for me to ramble round the world
than it is to be in our little town half
my days." Then, perhaps recalling
the sweet cakes at the cousin-par-
ties, he brings forward one more
cheering thought : " I- believe I will

go another voyage to the West
Indies, and will endeavor to bring
you a barrel of sugar." He always
sends his love not only to his broth-
ers and sisters, but to his cousins,
particularly Sam. Ayer and Richard
Bradley, who were nearest him in
age, and bids "William remember
him to all his playmates. He longs
to see Concord," he says, "but can-
not just yet."

His next voyage was rough, and
in Liverpool where they stopped,
"the press was very hot. They
press every one," he says, "without
it is merchant-ship carpenters and
the like," and they themselves had
been boarded by a man-of-war a few-
days after starting. In 1S07 he
writes, just sailing from Madeira, 011
his way to Calcutta on the ship True
America."

Then there was silence, and
anxious hearts scarcely lightened
by a patient, sorrowful letter from
Plymouth, Eng. Tom, in Calcutta
had been led to step aboard his
majesty's w r ar-ship, Cullode?i y of 74
guns, and found himself a mouse in
a trap ; but, with sweet unselfish-
ness and patient faith, he says :
"Make yourselves easy about me
until the Almighty Disposer of all
things sees fit to deliver me from my
trouble," But he watched as well
as prayed, poor heart ! and when the
Cidlcden at last came back to Eng-
land and he w r as drafted into a frig-
ate, he took to the water and swam
for his life. It was a perilous dis-
tance for the bravest swimmer be-
tween him and the shore, but, once
again on land, coatless and waist-
coatless, he, with a Scotchman, trav-
eled, barefoot, through the west of
England, subsisting for a time on

OUR STORE OF OLD LETTERS.-

149

raw turnips gathered from the fields,
but led at last, footsore and weary,
to a port where an American ship
had been driven in by the wind,
their angel of deliverance.

There was great joy among all the
cousins when he reached home in
181 1 ; but in July his sea-bird wings
were plumed again for flight, bound
for the Straits of Gibraltar as chief
mate of the Augustus, of Bath. He
wrote long letters from Gibraltar.
The strength and majesty of the
place seemed to impress him deeply.
A French army of 15,000 had been
camped in full view on the Spanish
coast, and on the beach near by they
could see men, women, and childien
driven from their homes and roaming
about, deprived of all their posses-
sions but the scanty treasures they
could carry with them.

To him there must have been a
sense of freedom in the declaration of
war in 1812. Here, perchance, was
an opportunity to redress his wrongs
from the Britishers. " Sir," he writes
in October of that year, " I am going
to France in the Brig Rambler \ a Let-
ter of Marque, and if we take any-
thing on our passage, I am to come
in Prize-Master."

It is his last letter which I can
find. Then or a little later he sailed
away, and was heard from no more.
The brave, blythc heart! Children
of the brothers he loved so well, we,
who knew him not, still hold his
memory dear.

The War of 181 2 was peculiarly
depressing in inland New Hampshire.
The quiet inhabitants realized the
perils and miseries of war, but there
was no flow of patriotic enthusiasm
in their hearts to enable them to meet
this test bravely as their fathers had

the Revolution, or as their sons, in
later days, the conflicts of the Rebel-
lion.

Lucy Wheelock, a good little girl,
who crossed even- / and dotted every
/, sent, in April, 18 13, a prim little
note to her mate, little Harriet Kim-
ball (named by Aunt Sally for the
immaculate heroine of Sir Charles
Grandison). "I am pleased," she
writes, ' c to hear you have made such
progress in spinning. It is a fine
accomplishment : one I should like
to acquire some knowledge of ; for I
consider it a very necessary branch
of edication, especially if this unjust
war should continue." There seemed
to have been soldiers quartered in
Concord. "I think," she says, "you
have been incorrectly informed in
regard to the mortality of the fever
among the inhabitants. It has
proved so among the soldiers. Nine-
teen of them have died, and five per-
sons belonging to this town. God,"
she adds piously, ; ' seemed to be pour-
ing out wrath on us poor sinners for
a few days, and then it seemed to
subside."

In this year my father, William
Green, going from Concord to Win-
field, in western New York, with
horse and carnage, to visit his
brother Samuel, into whose pioneer's
home sickness had come, and bring-
ing back with him three children
under nine, heard, when he reached
Albany, the booming of cannon and
the pealing of bells, telling the first
tidings of the victory of Commodore
Perry on Lake Erie. The youngest
of the children, a tiny boy, was after-
ward somewhat widely known as a
lawyer in Buffalo, the late William
Henry Green.

My uncle, Charles R. Green, who

15°

EDUCATIONAL DEPARTMENT.

then was still in his teens, writes.
May, 1S14, from Epsom : ,4 Five men
were drafted from here Wednesday,
and have marched. I expect to be
one of the next, if any more are
called for." And Uncle Hazen Kim-
ball writes from Savannah to his
brother Benjamin, anxious in 1S14,
as in 1S05, in regard to the bearing
of New Hampshire politics, " Be sure
and do your duty at the election of
members of Congress."

Through all the wear}*, opening
years of the now dying century one is

filled with admiration at the self-sac-
rificing interest which the hard-
pressed men and women of the time
felt in the higher education of their
children. Dr. Harris, the long-time
honored minister of Dunbarton, writes
in 1:806, — "Bless me! This is like
the old woman's salt mill, that will
not stop grinding though it has salt-
ed all the sea ! " The good Dr. Har-
ris —

Can I not stop ? — I open the wide
table dlrawer, and shuffle in all the
old letters together.

%mff®m %m

Conducted by Fred Gowing, State Superintendent of Public Instruction.

A WORD TO THE NEW HAMPSHIRE: TEACHERS' READING

CIRCLE.
By Dr. Charles J. Majory, Secretary International Reading Circle.

Impelling teachers to the pursuit School officers and intelligent par-
of a definite study of the history and ents are.* to-day demanding a class of
principles of their chosen calling teachers who can take a broad view-
there are two lines of motive force, of their" work ; who see beyond the
one from without and one from routine of daily tasks to the bearing
within. There has never been an of those tasks upon the mental and
era in which so popular an interest moral character, the general welfare
in educational matters has prevailed and the happiness of the children in
as in the present. school life, and of the men and

EDUCA TIONAL DEPARTMENT.

151

women whom these, children are to
become in later years. Successful
continuance in the work of teaching
requires that this demand be met.
But it is not from a defensive motive
alone that teachers comply with the
requirements thus laid upon them.
There is much of earnestness in the
ambition now prevalent among teach-
ers to increase the light in which
they may work, and to do such work
as will stand the test of the clearest
light that may be brought to bear
upon it. Without this impelling
motive within no force from without
could accomplish a tithe of what is
now being accomplished in the field
of educational progress.

Intelligent interest in worth}- profes-
sional reading is steadily increasing
among teachers of all grades. For sev-
eral years superintendents and princi-
pals, who have held anyclaim to being-
progressive, have realized the need
of reading pedagogical books. And
among class-teachers and the teach-
ers in ungraded schools there has
been a growing sense of the need of
such reading. Those who have been
first to feel this need and most earnest
in meeting it have advanced in their
work, and their schools have been
benefited as well as themselves.
The best superintendents, the best
principals, the best teachers owe
more, perhaps, than they realize to
the development that has been di-
rectly stimulated by their reading.
There are still many teachers doing
faithful work in the best light they
have whose labors would be far more
effective if they had the fuller inspir-
ation and the clearer light that would
come to them from the reading of
professional literature. It is true
that many teachers who have not

read educational books are good
teachers, but they would do better
work still with this added advantage.

Experience does not necessarily
make better teachers. If the class-
room work be not directed by wise
thought and guided by right princi-
ples, it may soon become merest rou-
tine, with even less of good than of
harm in its results. The teacher
ought certainly to grow more skilful,
ought better to understand the condi-
tions of mental development, ought
better to appreciate the motives of
condiuet, ought to be better able to
direct the instruction and discipline
of tke pupils to the highest ends.
But some teachers seem to make no
progress along these lines from year
to year. Probably this is due to a
neglect of professional reading more
than, to any other cause. The super-
intendent or principal who can stimu-
late his teachers to read thoughtfully
the best educational books, uses the
best practical means of improving
their work. Experience then will
bring its due growth.

Many elements combine in the
teacher who proves competent to do
really excellent class-room work.

Natural aptitude of disposition and
of character, general learning and
culture and professional training, ac-
quired in preparatory study and in
experience, are alike essential.

Cultivation along each of these
several lines needs to be continued
from year to year, and appropriate
means for such cultivation can be
found! available for the teacher's use.

In the matter of professional train-
ing an indispensable factor is found
in the study of pedagogical books.
This truth would seem to be self-
evident, yet its practical acceptance

152

EDUCA TIONAL DEPARTMENT.

has been far from universal. There
are still too many teachers in graded
and in ungraded schools who do not
avail themselves of this ready and
unfailing means of improvement in
their work. It is not enough that
the superintendent and principal
come to view the work of teaching
in its broad extent and manifold
relations. The principles underly-
ing successful instruction and train-
ing must be brought home to the
teacher who is called upon to apply
them in her dealing with the boys
and girls of our schools.

This can best be done through such
definite and continued reading as is
provided in the organized reading cir-
cle. Perhaps many teachers neglect
joining a reading circle because they
think that they can just as well
alone select useful books and read
them. In theory this may seem true,
but in experience it is found that
very few teachers engage in profit-
able professional reading otherwise
than under the stimulus of some
organization.

In New Hampshire the teachers
who have formed the State Reading
Circle, under the direct encourage-
ment of the state superintendent, are
about completing their first year's
reading with the three books of the
brief course of the Teachers' Inter-
national Reading Circle. Of the
books read, it may be claimed that
they present in the most usable form
for the general reader the three fields
of history of educational progress,
elementar>' psychology, and practi-
cal pedagogy. Every teacher who
has faithfully followed the year's
reading has acquired a broader out-
look upon the field of educational
work .

With the opening of the calendar
year the state circle will enter upon
the second year's work of the regular
course of reading. The books to be
read are the "History of Education
in the United States," by Dr. Rich-
ard G. Boone, which will prove a
natural sequence to the general his-
tory* of education read during the
first year : ' ' Psychology Applied to
the Art of Teaching," by Dr. Joseph
Baldwin, whose elementary treatise
has just been completed, and "Mem-
ory, What It Is, and How to Improve
It," by Prof. David Kay.

To the teachers who will pursue
the reading of this second year with-
out the preparation of written work,
the regular monthly syllabi may
prove of value in relation to a more
analytical reading than might other-
wise be made. The topics or ques-
tions are presented as suggestive of
further thought by the reader in con-
firmation of the author's view or in
dissent from such view. The best
reading is that which is done so de-
liberately that there is much of such
independent review and reconsider-
ation. If the prescribed reading for
a mon ill be carefully pursued, first
without reference to the syllabus,
and then gone over again with the
syllabus in hand, the second reading
cannot fail to be more profitable than
it otherwise could be. The highest
value of reading lies not in the get-
ting of the author's thoughts, but
in arousing thought in the reader's
mind by his contact with the thoughts
of the author.

The written work required for the
certificate of the International Circle
is not of an}' prescribed amount. It
is expected that each question will be
answered and each topic discussed

EDUCATIONAL DEPARTMENT.

*53

from the individual reader's point of
view. The teacher who has a broad
training and a wide experience will
more readily enter into a full discus-
sion of principles than one who has
not such advantage. Hence, a given
topic may be suggestive of two or
three pages of written work on the
part of one teacher, and of only a
sentence or two on the part of another.
And the reading and writing may be
more helpful to the latter teacher
than to the former since it may be
productive of helpful thought that
would not be otherwise aroused.
To a certain extent this exercise
may compensate for some of the lack
of previous training and experience.
So far as this result can be reached
the prime purpose of the reading cir-
cle will be accomplished.

No teacher should hesitate to send
in written work because it does not
seem to be of large quantity. The
only point of view from which it is
examined by the secretary is its
apparent helpfulness to the member
preparing it. The annual certificate
of the International Circle will be
duly issued to every registered mem-
ber who presents to the secretary sat-
isfactory evidence of having faithfully
pursued the prescribed course of
reading covering the three books.

Hereafter all written work and
inquiries relating thereto should be
addressed to the Secretary of the
International Reading Circle at 72
Fifth Ave., New York city.

The books prescribed for the sec-
ond year's work in the brief course
of the International Reading Circle,
have at least three points of merit ;
they are interesting, practical, and
suggestive.

The first month's work in ''Boone's

History* of Education in the United
States," as outlined in the syllabus,
calls attention to several topics which
every intelligent teacher ought to
make the subject of careful study.

1 . The conditions of favorable de-
velopment which in the Old and New
World preceded and accompanied the
establishment of the American pub-
lic school system.

2. The originating impulses
brought across the sea from England
and the Netherlands.

3. The circumstances under which
the higher institutions of learning
were started among the Puritans and
Cavaliers.

These three topics cover in a gen-
eral way the first month's work.

Now, in connection with the first
two, to illuminate all that Dr. Boone
presents so concisely and clearly, it
wouM be well for teachers to read,
thoroughly, John Fiske's " Begin-
nings of New England." The cen-
tral thoughts are expressed on pages
7. 12, 2S. About certain pivotal
principles concerning the Roman,
Oriental, and Teutonic ideas of gov-
ernment, the author has gathered
many suggestive notions which are
exceedingly profitable for future ref-
erence, study, and elaboration.

Ag;ain : In connection with the
second topic every teacher ought to
read Martin's " E volution of the
Massachusetts Public School Sys-
tem," and if possible, with this,
Superintendent Draper's articles on
* ' Public School Pioneering," in the
Educational Review, 1892, April, June,
and October; 1893, March. These
articles, including Mr. Martin's re-
plies,, are controversial in nature but
none the less interesting on that ac-
count.

-154

THE WORSHIPPER.

" MacMaster's History of the Unit-
ed States," Vol. II, pages 569, 571.
572, and Vol. Ill, pages 105, 134-
136, gives some interesting facts
concerning the adverse conditions
under which the early public schools
were established and maintained in
New England.

Teachers who read "Baldwin's
Applied Psychology*' and "Kay's
Memory ' ' will do well to read also
the chapters on ideation and mem-
ory in " Ladd's Psychology," and
the chapter on habit in " Prof. James's
Psychology." Certain principles, sug-
gested by Professor Ladd, are well
worth careful study, viz., (1) "Every
case of memory is a case of sym-
pathy ; " " Memory is. a condition or

state of the mind." (2) " Memory,
imagination, and thought are different
manifestations of one and the same
form of mental energy." (3) "The
secret of remembering is not repeti-
tion nor reproduction, but the organ-
ization and reorganization of knowl-
edge. Every complex idea is a new
mental growth every- time it occurs."
Some very suggestive thoughts are
also given by Professor Ladd (see
page 390), on the "Influence of
Language upon the Reproductive
Function of Developed Memory."

" Carpenter's Mental Physiology"
is a very interesting book for every
teacluer to read in connection with
any other book on pure or applied
psychology.

— ^0^10

THE WORSHIPPER.

By Samuel Hoyt.

She knelt within the vaulted nave,
And, high the altar's cross above,

She saw the image of the -Christ
With face of pity and off love.

There fell upon her weary soul

A balm that healed its inward smart;

And when she gained her. cottage door
She found that image im her heart.

/ss.

misi

rfl/^dk ^MM>-^\ M

COL. T. W. KNOX.

Colonel Thomas Wallace Knox, the well-known writer and traveller, was
born in Pembroke June 25, 1S35. At the cage of 23 he was principal of
Kingston academy. He went to the gold fields of California in 1S60, and
upon the breaking out of the war received the appointment of lieutenant-col-
onel on the staff of the governor of California.. Later he acted as war corres-
pondent for several New York papers. In 1S66 he made his first trip around
the world, travelling through northern Asia with an expedition establishing
a telegraph line. Of this journey,
3,500 miles was by sledge and 1,500
on wheels. In 1S73 he represented
several newspapers at the Vienna ex-
position, and travelled extensively in
the East. In 1877 he went around the
world a second time, and served as a
member of the international jury of
awards at the Paris exposition. He
was a hard and methodical literary
worker, publishing thirty-nine books,
many of which achieved great suc-
cess. He was also the inventor of a
system of typographical telegraphy
which he sold to the government.
In politics he was a life-long Repub-
lican. He was a close friend of
Henry M. Stanley, and was the first

American to receive from the king of Sianx the decoration of the Order of
the White Elephant. For fourteen years he was secretary of the Lotos club.
New York, where he died January 6. He was also a member of the Union
League club, treasurer of the Authors' e&ub, managing director of the
Olympic club, and a member of the New England society. For a short
time Mr. Knox was connected in an editorial capacity with the New Hamp-
shire Patriot, published at Concord.

JOSEPH R. SMITH.

Joseph Richardson Smith was born at Mollis, May, 1845, and died at New-
ton Highlands, Mass., January 1. He prepared for college at Lawrence acad-

156 NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY.

etny, Groton, Mass., and graduated from Dartmouth in the class of 1879.
While in college he was a prominent member of the Alpha Delta Phi frater-
nity. Upon graduation, he studied law, was admitted to the bar, and was
associated for two years with the firm of Train & Steel, Boston. He then
engaged in practise on his own account. For the past eight years he had
been a lecturer at the law school of Boston university. He was a member of
the University club, and served for some years on the Newton school com-
mittee. He was a Democrat in politics with which he was quite prominently
identified. His summer residence was at Hollis, and he delivered the address
of welcome at the one hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the settlement of
the town in 18 So.

J. W. DUXBURV.

John W. Duxbury died at Lowell, Mass.. January 13. He was born at
Dover, October 4, 1844, and graduated from Bowdoin college in 1S63. He
immediately entered the employ of the Western Union Telegraph company,
and the same year was placed in charge of the army telegraph corps at Chat-
anooga. After the war he was successively employed by the Western Union
company, the Providence Telephone exchange, and the New England Tele-
phone and Telegraph company. Six years ago he was appointed superintend-
ent of the central division of the latter company with head-quarters at Lowell.

THEODORE BALCli.

Theodore Balch was born in Lyme, sixty-three years ago, and died at
Wakefield, Mass., January 12. He was connected with the American Tract
society for fourteen years; in 1S76 was appointed financial agent of the New
London Literary and Scientific institution ; was chancellor of the Central
university,- Pells, Iowa, two years; served as treasurer of Roger Williams
university, Nashville, Tenn. ; and since 1SS7 had been general agent for the
Watchman newspaper. He received the honorary degree of A. M. from Cen-
tral university in 1882. He had held various town offices at Wakefield.

HIRAM COLLINS.

Hiram Collins, one of the oldest Free Masons in the country and a per-
sonal friend of the poet Whittier, died at Amesbury, Mass., January 15. He
was born at South Hampton, May 27, 180S, and was in early life employed
in woolen nulls as an overseer. He went to California in '49, and spent
some time in Brazil. During the remainder of his life he followed the busi-
ness of a dentist and jeweler. He was tne last captain of the old Boston
Artillery company, and became a Mason sixty years ago.

J. W. BLACK.

James Wallace Black was a native of Francestown, born February 10,
1825. In earl}- life he learned the trade of a photographer, and followed that
business in Boston until his death, which occurred January 5. He was an
authority in the science and chemistry of his profession, and during the last
fifteen years had made a specialty of landscape views and lantern slides.

NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY. i 57

C. G. &OXNER.

Charles Gilman Conner, who died at Exeter, January 20, was born in that
town in 1833, and had always lived there. He was town moderator for
twenty years, served in the legislature in 1865—66, and was clerk of the
supreme court for Rockingham county for more than thirty years. He had
been prominent in Masonic circles for twenty-eight years, and at the time of
his death was a trustee of Robinson Female seminary-, and a director in the
Exeter board of trade.

B. B. BURBANK.

In Vineland, X. J., January 12, at the age of 58 years, died Buchanan B.

Burbank. He was a native of Shelburne, and was educated at the academy

at Bethel, Maine. He was a resident of Wakefield, Mass., for thirty-five

years, during twenty-eight of which he was superintendent of the Citizens'

Gas Light company. He went to New Jersey to take a similar position. He

was one of Wakefield's selectmen for seven years, and also served as road

commissioner.

II. D. CHAPIN.

Henry D. Chapin died at Antrim, -January 16, at the age of 67 years. He
was a native of Hillsborough, began teaching at Windham and followed that
profession for thirty years, fifteen of which were spent in Sussex county,
X. J. Since 1SS7 he had resided on a farm at Antrim. He was a member
of the Congregational church, and a Democrat in politics.

NATHAXIEL JOHNSON.

Xathaniel Johnson died at Haverhill, Mass., January 12, at the age of 60
years. He was born at Kingston, but had been in the shoe business at Hav-
erhill for forty-two years, becoming one of the most prominent manufacturers
in the city. He was twice a member of the board of aldermen and declined
a Republican mayoralty nomination.

G. R. BANCROFT.

George Rogers Bancroft was born at Londonderry in March, 1849, and
died at Ipswich, Mass., January 19. He went to Ipswich when he was nine-
teen and entered the employ of John H. Johnson, shoe manufacturer/where
he remained for twenty-five years. Last spring he went into the shoe busi-
ness on his own account.

MOSES WOOLSON.

Moses Woolson was born in Concord, seventy-four years ago, and died in

Boston, Mass., January 17. He early attracted attention as an educator,

and was principal of high schools at Concord, Portland, Me., Brattleboro,

Vt., and Cincinnati. He married Miss Abba Gould, the now famous author,

1856.

RUFUS PREBLE.

Rufus Preble, the oldest pilot on the Piscataqua river, died at his home in
Xewcastle, January 11, at the age of 78 years. He was one of the firm
which brought the first tug to Portsmouth for use on the river.

158 -OAf. NEW HAMPSHIRE .VECROLOGY.

P. ML ROSSITER.

Pomero} 7 M. Rossiter, born at Claremont, December 4, 1S10, died there
December 29, 1S95. He removed to Milford at the age of 22, and spent his
liie there in agricultural pursuits until 1S79, when he returned to Claremont
and purchased the widely known li Cupola farm." He served for many
years as selectman of Milford, and represented Claremont in the legislature
in 1885.

S. W. LEAVITT.

Samuel W. Leavittdied at Exeter, -January 10, at the age of S9 years. He
was an old-time potter and hatter, and for many years deputy sheriff, jailer,
and justice of the peace. He was a trustee of Robinson Female seminary,
and an Odd Fellow of long standing. He is survived by a son and four
daughters.

DANIEL H. WEXDELL.

Daniel H. Wendell died in Dover, December 26, 1895, where he was born
July 25, 1S14. He was largely engaged in tthe real estate and insurance bus-
iness, and had held office as justice of the peace, representative to the legisla-
ture, and insurance commissioner.

JOHN C. LUSTO.

John C. Lund, one of the most respected business men and heaviest real
estate owners in Nashua, died at his home January 14, aged 74 years. He
was a prominent Democrat and had held many official positions. He was
also a prominent Mason.

DR. EDWARD AE:BOTT.

Dr. Edward Abbott, the leading physician of Tilton, died in that town
January 21, at the age of 49 years. He hasd been surgeon at the state Sol-
diers' Home for the past four years, and was well known throughout his sec-
tion of the state.

C. C. SHAW..

Charles C. Shaw, of Chichester, died Januiary 14. He was a leading far-
mer, and a member of the firm of Shaw & W'hittemore, Pembroke. He had
held the offices of selectman and representative to the legislature as a Demo-
crat.

OF HISTORIC VALUE.

C. B. Spofford is the compiler and George I. Putnam the proposed pub-
lisher of a volume to be entitled <; Gravestone records from the old burial
places of Claremont, New Hampshire." Over 1,600 names and dates of his-
toric value and interest will thus be saved from oblivion if a sufficient num-
ber of subscriptions are received to warrant publication. It gives the Gran-
ite Monthly pleasure to endorse the work unqualifiedly and to express the
hope that it may speedily take permanent form.

Invaluable Aids to Teachers
and Students of Geography

National
GEOGRAPHIC MONOGRAPHS

on the Physical Features
of the Earth's Surface.

Now Ready

I— PHYSIOGRAPHIC PROCESSES
II — PHYSIOGRAPHIC FEATURES

JOHN W. POWELL,

Late Director U. S. Geoicg-cal Survey.

Annual Subscription — ten Monographs —

payable in advance, .... $1.50

Annual 5ubscription — five copies to one

address — payable in advance, . . 6.00

Single Monographs, . . . . . .20

Re vi it with order to

American Book Company

New York - Cincinnati - Chicago

Just Published

Long's
HOME GEOGRAPHY

-:- Beautifully Illustrated -:-

PRICE. 25 CENTS

Sent, postpaid, for 25 cents
AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY

New York - Cincinnati - Chicago - Boston
Atlanta - Portland, Ore.

n^ \7 ^o« ^1 , MNT A PORTRAIT OF *\
jl^O YOU Washington . r

PUBLIC SCHOOLS are quite generally interested in the movement
for securing a fine portrait of Washington for their Schools.

Our WASHINGTON CERTIFICATES have been successfully used
by pupils in hundreds of Schools in securing money for a portrait. It is
not uncommon for the pupils, by aid of these certificates, to raise $10.00
inside of twenty- four hours. A package of fifty certificates sent free on
application.

Hie best portrait for this purpose is a copy of our Elson Photogravure
of Washimgton, (heavy paper, size 22 x 28 inches) which we give free
v*ith one of our School Libraries.

Five Libraries of Ten Volumes from $4.75 to $5.75 each.

Our Portrait Catalogue of School Libraries sent free to any address.

GINN & COMPANY. Publishers,

BOSTON, MASS.

f.:-

BROlUll & BURPGG,

CONSULTING OPTICIANS.

WE WILL BIND YOUR

Granite *>
Monthlies

IN CLOTH, STANDARD BINDING.

THE KBNNARD,

MANCHESTER,

-* FOR «■

Have givtn a life's study So' Ophthalmic optics, and their
testing parlor was never »o well equipped as now. Com-
plicated visual defects and incidental head and nervous
troubles their specialty. Highest standard m skill and
material. This is the only place this side of Boston
v here prescription spectacle- are made. You can save
time and money by sending your prescription-, a ad
broken spectacles to them.

They have just received a large import order of
Opera, Field, and Marine (jlasses and Binocular Tele=
scopes in a!! grades, including the finest made.

Will send L.(>. D. to ani address with permission
to examine, a good achromatic opera in Black for 54.00,
and in Pearl for $6.

□

50 c. PER VOLUME,

IF ALL NUMBERS ARE SF.NT
US IN GOOD CONDITION,
EXPRESS PREPAID.

GRANITE MONTHLY CO.,

Concord, N. H.

TIME TESTS ALL THINGS/'

PAGIFiG GUANO COMPANY,

New England Office 92 State Street, Boston,

MANU FACTU RCF.S OF

SOLUBLE PACIFIC GUAMO

And Other Fertilizers of the Highest Grade.

THE BRANDS OF THE PACIFIC GUANO COMPANY
DAVE BEEN BEFORE THE PUBLIC THIRTY YEARS.
<Sj*" IN FIELD RESULTS THEY HAVE NEVER BEEN 4>P

SURPASSED AND SELDOM EQUALLED.

FOR SALE BY RESPONSIBLE AGENTS IN ALL CiTlES AND TOWNS OF NEW ENGLAND.

Write to Hew Hampshire office at Concord, N. H., for pamoniets.

4*. 35s

o \

T/lL

s-^ - ' P p r T*^

* r />'C : - pi ft /^~M\ (%Jn v'-ff l»fc £v£>

"fltffiftf

ONC°M>-F$-M

Tt\t ommt AMTfiLy c°Apany

1896

PEOPLE WHO
LOVE BOOKS

— . 9

like to have those books conven-
iently and properly arranged.

We manufacture and sei! sev-
eral sorts of book cases, diction-
ary holders, etc.

Being manufacturers, we can
afford to s?U them at the usual
retail prices and to give a valuable
present of books with each pur-
chase.

With a $5.00 dictionary holder,
for instance, we jive you a choice
of several sets of books, each worth
from $2.00 to $4.00. With a !— -ger

Eurchase, we give more b„jks.
end for price lists, catalogues and
lists of premiums.

*A postal card wSl do.

65 FIFTH AVE., NEW YORK

0&$%*^ Andrews ?

a^gSS^W School %

mj^MM Furnishing $

^ , Company £

Choice of a Company. ^

One desiring- life insurance should
take a policy in a company whose his-
tory furnishes proof that the policy-
holder will be treated fairly, his invest-
ments be safe, the payment of his policy ;
at maturity be certain, and a full
equivalent be guaranteed by law in
case of lapse for every dollar he pays.

These advantages are secured to
every policy-holder in the State Mutual
Life of Worcester.

♦

Specimen policy and rates for any age on application.

Everybody should know, about

Venezuela

And the various claims of England on the disputed
bouudry from 1640 to the present year.

Cuba and Spain

-hewing points at which engagements between the
Insurgents and Spanish troops have been fought-

A r m en i a

And the location of the recent massacres there.

Turkey

'Che Dardanelles, Bosporus. Sea of Marmora, Med-
iterranean Sea, Black Sea, &c, &c.

Chima and Japan

Together with Corea, Formosa, Russia, and East-
ern Asia.

Alaska

With its gold fields, g'reat mountains, seal and
salmon fisheries, &c,

And a3':i Geographical Facts pertaining to every country

im the world are disclosed in The Granite

Monthly's edition of

Raid, McNally & Co.'s New
General Atlas f Marginal Index

With :an accuracy and fullness of detail never before
shown in any Atlas.

Size <of page. 12x14^ inches. 100 pages. Index on mar-
gin ot each" page. 157 pages of colored maps, showing
everv country on the face of the globe.

We BJ?« prepared to supply the demand, for a limited
time only, at the following prices :

Complete for $1.

In ten> paper bound parts, (or single parts ioc. each,
pc-.-cpaid to any address). All parts now ready.

Orders received now for the complete work

SuperMy bound in fine English Silk st\ .* ri P*

Cloth, with colored edges, sent prepaid ^L I %J h>

to any express office in the United States %£) A • / >»/

upon Receipt of .... -

Nicholas Frost, Gen. Agt,

CONCORD, N. H.

UNDER THE CLOCK.

All orders to be addressed

Atlas Department, Monitor Bid?.

CONCORD, N. H.

nARCH, 1896.

**^1

TnctoNire/^nhLY

C^TEfiTd

Charles Axdekson Dana, Hon. William E. Chandler . . . .

The Spare Front Room, Clara Augusta Trask . . .

The First Snowshoe Club in. New Hampshire, Edward French, M. D.

Moments of Light, Milo Benedict . . . . • • . •

Lost in the Woods, Rev. O. R. Hunt . . . . . ■

Morning among the Hills, George Bancroft Griffith .

Berlin: A Town of To-day, Edward C. Xiles, Esq. . .

Elbridge A. Towle, L. K. H. Lane . ...

An Evening Prayer, Harrie Sheridan Baketel, M. D. .

The Legend of John Levin and Mary Glasse, E. P. Tenney .

A Wish, H. H. Hanson

Educational Department. Fred Gowing ......

New Hampshire Necrology . .

i59
169

170

i75
176
184
184
205
207
207
21 1
212
217

The Roentgen Rays, bv Ensign Lloyd H. Chandler, V . S. N. ; The College

Church at Hanover, by Rev. S. P. Leeds; Westminster Abbey, by

John C. Thorne ; and the town of Gorham, by George

H. Moses, will be illustrated features of

the April Granite Monthly.

Subscription: £2.00 p-r year; Si. 50 if paid in advance: 20 cents per copy.
Entered at the post<>mce at Concord. N*. H., as second class matter.
Copyright, 1896, by the Granite Monthly Company. All rights reserved.
Illustrated, printed, and electrotyped by the Republican Press Association, Concord, N. H.

SSS^

Berlin, N. H.,' Bonds.

4 1=2 per cent.

We offer, subject to prior sale, a few thousand of the bonds of
this progressive and enterprising New Hampshire town. Full particu-
lars and price furnished upon application, also our regular circular
giving list of a large number of high grade municipal and railroad
bonds, and non-taxable securities.

E. H. Rollins & Sons,

53 State Street, Boston, Mass.

No One Knows All

About Newspapers. But the men who know most zbout
them have, for twenty-eight years, embodied their knvrwledge

Li a bock published by George P. RowcD <Sc Co.. EG Spruce

Street, New York, and called the . .

American * - *.
Newspaper Director)'

This volume now contain about 1500 pages, is sub-
stantially bound, and is se'd for $5. it gives ail the
necessary information about a!! the Ncwscapers in the
United States and Canada. If ycu rtid Newspapers, ad-
vertise in them, zr tvrite for them, there are a rr Jlion facts in
the Directory of which . .....

You OngM to Enow All

f <%

•

"COPYRIGHT 1895 BY B. J. FALK, H. »."

Charles A. Dan. a.

(6*1

The Granite Monthly.

Vol. XX.

MARCH, 1S96,

No.

CHARLES ANDERSON DANA.

By Senator Chandler.

'A /TR. DANA, in unique person-
/ ' \ ality and strong charae-
J- ■*- ter, stands with the best
known and foremost of America's
public men of the nineteenth cen-
tury. New Hampshire is able to
to claim him, as she does Horace
Greeley with whom he was closely
associated, as one of her celebrated
sons. In literature, in public affairs,
and especially as an editor, he has
reached distinction which is world-
wide.

If Mr. Dana were a senator or
member of congress his biography
would be concisely given in the offi-
cial record nearly as follows : Occu-
pation : literature and newspaper ed-
iting ; born August 8, 1S19, in Hins-
dale, Cheshire count}, New Hamp-
shire, from which town, when he was
two years old, his parents moved to
Gaines, Orleans county, New York,
and afterwards, when he was about
eight years old, they removed to
Guildhall, Vermont ; at the age of
twelve he went to live with his uncle
in Buffalo, New York ; was educated
in the public schools, and for two
years at Harvard college, leaving on

account of failing eyesight, but even-
tually receiving his degree of A. B.
as a member of the class of 1843, and
also in 1S61 the honorary degree of
A. M. ; he became in 1S42 one of the
Brook Farm association at Roxbury,
Massachusetts, and his first news-
paper work was on the Harbinger, a
paper connected with that experi-
ment; in 1844 he was an assistant
editor to Elizur Wright on the Fos-
ton Chronotype ; in 1847, an assistant
to Horace Greeley on the New York
Tribune, aiding in making the paper
a radical anti- slavery journal, and
continuing with it after a voyage to
Europe in 184S, as one of the" pro-
prietors, and as managing editor,
until April i, 1862, when he re-
signed on a sudden request from Mr.
Greeley, made because he was too
strenuously forcing the Tribune to de-
mand the utmost possible vigor in
the prosecution of the war, and he
did not again meet Mr. Greeley until
ten years later when he was support-
ing him in tins' Sun as the Democratic
nominee for the presidency ; on June
16. 1862, he became attached to the
war department as one of the depart-

i6o

CHARLES ANDERSON DANA

ment commission to investigate claims
at Cairo, Illinois, and on March 12,
1863, as special commissioner of the
department to report on the condition
of the pay service in the western
army; on June i, 1863, in order
that he might be subject to military
exchange if captured when visiting
the front of the army, he was ap-
pointed major and assistant adjutant-
general, and on December 31, 1S63,
was nominated to the senate for that

,"— ■

i 4

at .1.

I8S2. Age 33.
By permission of S. S. XfcCliire.

office, but he never formally ac-
cepted it, and the nomination, at his
request, after he returned from Yieks-
burg, was withdrawn on February
24, 1864: on January 20. 1864, he
was nominated as assistant secretary
of war for one year from January 19,
1864; confirmed January 26, and took
the oath of office on January 28 ; re-
nominated January 23, 1S65, and con-
firmed on the same clay — rendering
the principal part of his sen-ice for
the war department under the above

commissions and as assistant secre-
tary by visiting the army head-quar-
ters of Rosecrans, Sheridan, Sher-
man, and Grant, advising confiden-
tially with the commanding officers,
and corresponding freely with Presi-
dent Lincoln and Secretary Stanton,
resigning as assistant secretary July

iS6;

in 1855 he had begun to

plan, compile, and edit, with George
Ripley, the " New American Cyclo-
pedia," and the original edition was
completed in 1863, and became the
'American Cyclopedia" between
1873 and 1S76; in 1S67 he started
the Chicago Republican ; and on Jan-
tiar}* 27, 1868, he issued the first
number under his management of the
Xew York Sun and became its editor
and proprietor, making it in 1872 a
Democratic newspaper, continuing in
its control during the twenty-seven
succeeding years, and now so re-
maining.

The foregoing condensed narrative
suggests the character of Mr. Dana's
unremitting intellectual labors for
more than half a century of exceed-
ingly active duty, which, however,
bring him to 1896 full of vigor of
mind and body. It is not the pur-
pose of this sketch to review his
career in any detail. To adequately
write his life or to even epitomize the
writings which have come from his
brain and pen, would require a full
volume.

A highly commendable, brief biog-
raphy of Mr. Dana is contained in
McClure's magazine for October,
1894, written by Mr. Edward P.
Mitchell. It is a clear presentation
of the facts and surroundings of Mr.
Dana's life, and graphically exhibits
the characteristics that have enabled
him to render inestimable service to

CHARLES ANDERSON DANA.

161

his country in a great crisis in her Italy, are well known, one of them

national life, while also achieving being now a professor in the Univer-

high literary reputation, and attain- sity of Turin. 1 Richard Dana settled

ing cosmopolitan fame as an editorial on an extensive farm in that part of

writer and manager. The portraits Canuibridge which is now Brighton,

of Mr. Dana which accompany Mr. where he raised a large family, and

Mitchell's sketch are admirable, died April 2, 1690, aged from 75 to

and with Mr. McClure's permission, 7S pears. His wife was Ann Bul-

have been freely reproduced to il- lard,, and their descendants were (2)

lustrate this article in the Granite Jacoib Dana, born in 1654, died in

Monthly. A reliable short account 1699^ at Cambridge: (3) Jacob

of Mr. Dana's life is aib~ to be found Dana, Jr., known as Jacob Dana,

in "Appleton's Cyclopedia of Ameri- Esquiire, born in 1699, who moved

can Biography," Volume 2, page 64. to Piomfret, Connecticut, and died at

The ancestry of Mr. Dana is
worthy of note. Gail Hamilton in
her biography of Mr. Blaine, in
order to foreshadow the greatness of
her hero, quotes from Edwin Reed's

the nape age of 92 ; (4) Anderson
Danai. born at Pomfret in 1735, lived
at Ptomfret, and at Ashford, Connecti-
cut, until 1772, and then removed to
Wycamiiig, Pennsylvania, where he
attempt to discover an unknown law had acquired a tract of valuable land.
of human life : " Intellectual energy, He was a lawyer, and became a rep-
like every other of which we have resenrtative in the legislature of Con-
knowledge, is the product of anteee- uectikcut, which claimed the northern
dents. . . . Every man at birth part <of Pennsylvania under its origi-
is the epitome of his progenitors." nal ^charter from Charles II. He
This positive affirmation seems not returned from the legislative session

too strong. Ancestors, strong and
healthy, physically and mentally,
usually produce descendants with
similar traits. Some degenerate sons
of worthy sires disprove the univer-
salitv of this affirmation. But the

the tilay before the Wyoming mas-
sacre of July 3. 177S, and, according
to tradition, served as an aid to Zeb-
ulon Butler commanding the Amer-
ican f'orces, and after the battle was
virtually over was killed bv an

exceptions prove the rule, which is Indian; ; (5) Daniel Dana, born
no where better illustrated than
among the sons of New England.

On his father's side Mr. Dana s
record is (1) Richard Dana, who
arrived at Cambridge, Massachusetts
from England in 1640. He is be-
lieved to have been a French Hug-
uenot refugee of Italian extraction,
although all the American Danas
have been distinctly Anglo-Saxon in
their traits. The Danas of Piedmont,

in
1760. in Ashford, Connecticut, re-
moved to Guildhall, Vermont, later
to Pembroke, Xew York, and to War-
ren, Ohio, where he died in 1839 ;
(6) Anderson Dana, who was the
father of (7) Charles Anderson Dana.
The wife of the first Anderson
Dana was Susannah Huntington, a
descendant in the fifth generation
from Smon Huntington, who died
on his passage from England to this

'Our New Hampshire chief justice, Samuel Dana Bell, whr.se mother was a Dana, discredited the tradition
that Richard Dana was a Frencli Huguenot, and thought he was entirely of English origin. He certainly came
to this country from England, and all his children 7 .-, names are apjaaren ly English.

i6:

p"^S

: : r

CHARLES ANDERSON DANA.

-^X'

h i %

■■ -■■ - ' - . .. _.--..: . . .. ...>■. 8$8&&£m

Mr. Dana before Grant's Headquarters at Spottsylvania, 1864. Age 44.
Bj /tvv/.'/jv ion pfS. S. McClure.

country in 1633. but whose sons,
Simon and Christopher, founded
Norwich, Connecticut. Susannah
Huntington was a woman of remark-
able qualities, according to the book
of the Huntington family, pages 53
and 12S. She had seven children, one
of whom .was Daniel, above mentioned
as the grandfather of the subject of this
sketch, and another was Sylvester,
born July 4, 1769, 1 who became a
minister and settled at Orford, X. H-,
at whose funeral, on June 11. 1849,
Rev. Dr. Nathaniel Bouton, of Con-
cord, X. EL, delivered a commemo-
rative address, in which he depicted
the heroic character of Susannah
Huntington Dana.

When the Indians fell upon the
Wyoming settlement, and her hus-
band was killed, she collected her

children, put some food and her hus-
band's papers into a pillow case, and
with her little flock tugging at her
skirts, fled through the wilderness
along the route she had travelled on
horseback six years before, over two
hundred miles, back to safety in Ash-
ford. She reared her children cred-
itably and managed to give them a
good, education.

Her son, Daniel Dana, was gradu-
ated at Yale in 1782, and was a lead-
ing citizen and judge of probate at
Guildhall. His wife, Dolly Kibbe,
descended from Edward Kibbe of
Exeter, England, and her grand-
father was the first child born in
Enfield, Connecticut ; and he organ-
ized a revolutionary company after
the news from Lexington.

Mr. Dana's mother was Ann Den-

1 He was the father of Judge Sylvester Dana, that free-soil pioneer, learned lawyer, and upright magistrate,
now living at Concord, N. H. Kev. Sylvester Dana was graduated at Yale in 1797, settled at Orford, May 20.
1801, and remained there about thirty-two years. dying at Concord, June 9, 1S49. Judge Dana's persistency and
firmness of cliaracter are easily accounted for in a descendant of the Susannah Huntington of this narrative.

ison. whose grandfather was Seth
Paine, a member of the Connecticut
state convention which ratified the
federal constitution in 17SS. Her
uncle was Elijah Paine, United States
senator from Vermont from 1795 to
1 So 1 .

The first Denisou who came to
America returned for a few years
and fought at Naseby with Crom-
well. The English Denisons appear
to have been singularly able men.
Lord Ossington. a speaker of the
British parliament, belonged to this
family.

The traits inherited from such an
ancestry doubtless gave Mr. Dana
the will and strength to overcome
the difficulties which met him in
early life. It is not wise to exagger-
ate these or to represent him as start-
ing in excessive poverty and hard-
ship, merely in order to make a

not have been successfully met by an
ordinary boy. After he went, at the
age of twelve, to live with his Uncle
William, the chief dry goods mer-
chant of Buffalo, the panic of 1837
brought failure to the firm, and the
young man. then only eighteen, was
by the assignee made his representa-
tive to carry on and wind up the bus-
iness.

During the period of this work
the determination to acquire greater
learning took possession of him, and
he decided, against his father's view,
to go to college ; and he prepared
himself to enter while serving in the
store, reading at night and at all odd
moments which he could find. When
he entered Harvard college in 1839,
without a condition, he could rely
upon no financial assistance from his
family, and pushed on only by teach-
ing school at Scituate three months
during a college vacation and by
borrowing from the college fund, the

college taking

insurance on his

striking contrast of his humble begin-
nings with his later signal successes.
Mr. Blaine, in his eulogy of Presi-
ident Garfield, justly deprecated this
tendency of biographers. Mr. Dana
unquestionably had many favorable
and helpful surroundings and much
to be thankful for ; and he of all men
would be unwilling to be represented
as having greater obstacles to over-
come, or as possessing more energy,
industry, and ambition, with which
to -overcome them than many other
New England boys of his day and
generation. Yet truth requires that
it should be stated that the hardships
and troubles he encountered would

1 Much regret has been lor many years expressed that no i 'equate memorial has been written of the Brook
Farm association. But recently Mr. John Thomas Coclman has published his " Historic and Personal Memo-
ries of Brook Farm,*' which is a satistactory account. He thus describes Mr. Dana :

"A young man of education, culture, and marked ability was Charles Anderson Dana when from Harvard
college he presented himself at the farm. He was strong (i purpose and lithe of frame, and it was not long
before Mr. Ripley found it out and gave him a place at the fror ; -. He was alxr:t four and twenty years of age,
and he took to books, language, and literature. Social, good natured, and animated, he readily pleased all with
whom he came in contact. . . . His face was pleasant and animated, and he had a genial smile and greeting
for all. His voice was musical and clear, and his language remarkably correct. He loved to spend a portion of
his time in work on the farm and in the tree nursery, and you might be sure of finding him there when not

life and receiving its final reimburse-
ment nearly twenty years later.
Then came deprivation of eyesight,
so that he managed to finish his
sophomore year without failure at
the examinations only through the
help of a classmate, Mr. John Emery,
who read to him and heard his reci-
tations.

That Mr. Dana overcame this
weakness of eyesight is remarkable.
It influenced him to join the Brook
Farm community, 1 where he could
work outdoors and vet be sur-

i6 4

CHARLES ANDERSON DANA

rounded by a literary atmosphere. In attempting to form a just esti-

which he utilized by learning and mate of Mr. Dana it is necessary to

teaching Spanish and mathematics, consider him in three aspects : (i) in

The intimate friendship of the boy his relations to literature, (2) in con-

of 22 with George Ripley. George nection with his labors for the Union

William Curtis, Nathaniel Haw- in the war for secession, and (3) in

thorne, Theodcre Parker, William his career as the controlling and

H. Channing, and Margaret Fuller, principal editor of one of the great-

in the youthful days of those humane est of the world's newspapers,

and gentle enthusiasts who were seek- It is difficult to assign him to an

ing to live according to their highest exact position in the world of letters,

ideals of . a perfect life — the mere because his own writings have been

recital of whose names now causes so merged in the great mass of the

the eyes of every true child of New contributions to the "American Cy-

England to moisten with tender emo- clopedia " and in the impersonal

tion— subjected him to Normative in- editorials in the Sun, that their

fluences of the best and most enclur- quantity and value can be accurately

known to no one, and doubtless all
his own work could not now be des-
ignated even by him. The specific
writings known to have come from
his pen, beside a few short poems,

ing character : and upon the break-
ing up of the Brook Farm experiment
he may be said to have begun his lit-
erary career, yet with eyes that never
afterwards ceased to trouble him. It

was less than twenty years ago when, and his chapters in the life of Grant,

through treatment by Liebrich, a prepared in 1S68, in connection with

London ocuiist, he oecame able to General James H. Wilson, are not

use them with comfort, although numerous.

never again did he take up his boy- It is certain, however, that he is a
hood's habit of reading at night, and linguist of unusual attainments, that
practically his whole scholarship has his knowledge of books is wide, that
been acquired since he left college, his literary taste and judgment are
without ever again burning any mid- of the highest order, that he has no
night oil. If other New England superior as a literary critic : and that
boys have done as well as he did, he has written such notable articles
with obstacles and discouragements on such an extensive variety of sub-
to surmount, as some certainly have jects for the "Cyclopedia" and the
done, it can be claimed for no one Tribune and Sun during a period of
that he has done better than this lad fifty years, usually with accuracy,
without money and with limited eye- always in a style felicitous and forci-
sight but with indomitable will. ble. as to place him indisputably in

otherwise occupied. Enjoying fun and social life, there was always a dignity remaining which gave him influ
ence and commanded respect. If you looked into his room you saw pieasant volumes in various languages
peeping at you from the table, chair, book-case, and even frrm the floor, and they gave one the impression that
for so young a person he was remarkably studious and well informed."

In Mr. Codman's book is quoted Mr. Dana's < pinion of Brook Farm written shortly after the death of Mr.
George Ripley : ' ; It is not too much to say that every person who was at Br"ok Farm for any length of time
has ever since looked back to it with a feeling of satisfaction. '1 he healthy mixture of manual and intellectual
labor, the kindly and unaffected social relations, the absence of everything like assumptions or servility, the
amusements, the discussions, the friendships, the ideal and poetical atmosphere which gave a charm to iite, —
all these continue to create a picture toward which the mind turns back with pleasure as to something disant
and beauti ul not eUewhere met with amid the routine of this world."

CHARLES ANDERSON DANA.

r6<

the ranks of the most expert mas-
ters of the English language and the
-closest students of the literature of
Europe and America.

His "Household Book of Poetry,"
first published in 1857, and in 18S2
revised and enlarged with a preface,
dated November, 1SS2. states that its
purpose is "to comprise within the
bounds of a single volume whatever
is truly beautiful and admirable
among the minor poems of the Eng-

lish language.

"Fifty Perfect

Poems : Selected and edited by
Charles A. Dana and Rossiter John-
son," is the title of a volume pub-
lished in 1SS3. In " Representative
Poems of Living Poets, selected by
the poets themselves,'' published in
18S6, and edited by Mrs. Jeannette
L. Gilder who writes the preface, are
to be found three of Mr. Dana's
poems: "Eternity," " Herzliebste,"
and " Manhood."

Eor the value of Mr. Dana's ser-
vices to the Union cause during the
War of Secession, it is but just to
award to him for his gratification in
his lifetime the supreme commenda-
tion which is his due. With an
intense zeal, equal to that of the
great war secretary whose assistant
he became, and yet, with clear vision
and cool judgment, he gave himself
unreservedly to the work for which
he had been selected. He went to
the front wherever vital battles were
to be fought ; made himself welcome
to every Union commander ; mas-
tered every situation ; gave helpful
advice on the spot ; and wrote let-
ters to Stanton and Lincoln full of
facts which they would not other-
wise have known, and of sugges-
tions which were of the highest im-
portance. The nature, extent, and

value of Mr. Dana's work, and the
remarkable traits of the man himself,
can only be known and appreciated
through a careful perusal of his tele-
grams and letters which are to be
found in so many volumes of the
"War Records, ' published by the
government. If he had done noth-
ing but his service in preventing
the abandonment of Chattanooga
by Rosecrans after the Battle of
Chickamau^a, he would deserve the

-. -■--•.—-

••

■

"-• !

1865. Age 46.
By Permission of S. S. McClure.

gratitude of the nation. His letters
undoubtedly caused the supersedure
of Rosecrans by Thomas and the
transfer of the command of the oper-
ations on the Tennessee to Grant,
the conqueror of Vicksburg, in sea-
son to prevent Rosecrans from re-
treating and to make possible the
decisive victories around Chatta-
nooga.

Wherever Mr. Dana went he per-
ceived the situation clearly, and
"formed his judgment wisely; and

1 66

CHARLES ANDERSON DANA.

his advice, given without fear or
favor, was eagerly received and often
followed : his position was anomalous
and not wholly agreeable to him, but
he did his work with tact ; it was
recognized and praised by Stanton
and Lincoln who always honored him
with their confidence and friendship,
— Mr. Lincoln called him ''the eyes
of the government at the front" ; as
soon as he could he retired to his
regular vocation ; and he has ever
since, against all attempts at misrep-
resentation, directed against either
Stanton or Lincoln or any transac-
tions of the war, stood for the truth
of history as he, with his superior
opportunities, saw or knew it. If
Mr. Dana allows himself to review
with self satisfaction any part of his
life work, he doubtless congratulates
himself most upon the quiet and un-
ostentatious service which he ren-
dered in a special way in wisely in-
fluencing his two intimate associates,
the president and the secretary of war,
in the direction of the movements of
the Union armies against the forces
of the rebellion ; and he and his
descendants may be justly proud of
this portion of his career.

To now write of Mr. Dana as an
editor is to speak only of the Su?i.
It is the privilege of a great editor
to surround himself with a staff who
not only carefully represent the views,
but also either purposely or uncon-
sciously reproduce the style of their
chief. So the newspaper in matter
and manner becomes one thing; in
this case the New York Sim. These
are some of its notable characteris-
tics:

Its literary excellence is surpassed
by that of no other paper. This is

owing to the unremitting care of the
editor and his assistants. Very little
either of news or literary or editorial
matter finds its way into the columns
which is poorly expressed or shows
bad taste in any particular. Unsparing
labor is expended in seeking perfec-
tion in this respect. Doubtless more
matter is rewritten, condensed, and
improved in style for use in the Sun
than for the columns of any other
American paper.

li-
lts historical accuracy is carefully
maintained. By this it is not meant
that misstatements do not sometimes
appear in the haste of the daily pub-
lication of what is called news and
in the heat of political controversy.
But it is a maxim of management
that no matter what individual, party,,
or interest may be affected, nothing
but the truth is to be deliberately
stated and persisted in. Whatever
can stand against the truth is to pre-
vail, but not otherwise. It is often
interesting to see the Sun reviewing
controversies over questions of fact
in order to proclaim, after careful
research, with irrefragable proofs,
the exact truth of the case. This
is sometimes done in frank with-
drawal of opinions previously ex-
pressed, but such are the proverbial
care and accuracy of the editors that
such changes are seldom necessary
to maintain the reputation of the
paper for fair dealing.

III.

The fearlessness of the Situ on
several occasions has given to it a
right to the support and gratitude of
the country. When the fierce con-
troversies arose between the work-

CHARLES ANDERSON DANA.

167

men and their employers at the Car-
negie factories at Homestead, Penn-
sylvania, which were aggravated by
the unjustifiable absenteeism of Mr.
Carnegie in Europe, and riot and
bloodshed took place, many public
men and newspaper editors lost their
coolness, and began to palliate, if not
to countenance, continued rioting and
the seizure of the works by the riot-
ers. The Sun, almost alone of the
great national newspapers, came un-
reservedly to the support of the pub-
lic authorities, compelled the return

believes that the western hemisphere
is reserved for Americans, that ac-
cording to the principles of the Mon-
roe doctrine, as the people of the
United States are determined to in-
terpret and enforce it, no new pos-
sessions are on any pretext, either
with or without the consent of the
local governments, to be acquired by
European powers, and that eventu-
ally the existing control by such pow-
ers of American territory is to dimin-
ish and disappear. Holding firmly
to these opinions, the Sun opposes

"fr-sr-^

' i SCI -D • _ r r \

^v tm*

f • -

E -• '

- - - ■ - - -

„« - ;:;.?-:•.*:•:;■ " ••■ -

■
* ■ --

Doooris." Mr. Dana's Surnnner Hom«

of the great establishment to the
hands of its owners, and became the
chief agency in arousing a national
sentiment that secured the restora-
tion of law and order. No better
work was ever done in a great pub-
lic crisis than that performed by the
Sun in the repression of the Home-
stead riots of 1892. It is a strength
to the country that the paper may
be depended upon while under Mr.
Dana's control to meet similar crises
with the same fearlessness.

IV.

The Sun is American in all its ten-
dencies and aspirations. Its editor

the British seizure, with no plausible
color of right, of the east bank of the
Orinoco ; advocates the freedom of
Cuba, and the formation of a govern-
ment in Hawaii friendly to the Unit-
ed States ; advises the exclusion of
European powers from ownership or
control of the Nicaragua canal ; and
hopes for the ultimate peaceful an-
nexation of Canada to our Union.
While other newspapers earnestly
urge the same views, yet it seems to
many of us that the Siui more care-
fully investigates, more clearly ex-
pounds, and more cogently and cour-
ageously demands the enforcement of
the special principles which should

1 68

CHARLES ANDERS OX DANA

govern the foreign policy of the na-
tion, and finally make the United
States, without colonization by in-
trigue or violence and without an
enlargement of territory outside of
American soil and American waters,
the strongest and greatest country in
the world.

The Sun and its editor are not
faultless. It is the mission of jour-
nalism to speak promptly day by day
concerning current events and ques-
tions, after such inquiry and delib-
eration as are practicable on short
notice : and therefore absolute accu-
racy and wisdom cannot be claimed
for any newspaper which boldly per-
forms its functions, acting according
to the light given at the time. Abso-
lute consistency cannot be asserted
for the Sun and Mr. Dana during the
last third of a century: The neces-
sity for immediate speech has also
led to some harsh judgments of men
which time has not proved to be just ;
while intense feeling and zeal have
found expression in severity of de-
nunciation which would not appear
in writings designed to survive the
seeming exigencies of the hour. Par-
tisanship to carry part}' measures,
the desire or obligation to defend or
to excoriate party leaders and to win
party victories, have also, at times,
led the Sioi into extreme expres-
sions. Hut compared with the influ-
ence for good which it has exerted
in its career taken as a whole, any
anathemas which may have been ut-
tered through mistake of fact or in-
temperate zeal, do not seriously mod-
ify the general declaration that the
Sit7i has been conducted judiciously,
wisely, ably, and fearlessly and to
the great benefit of the nation which.
like itself, has grown to exceedincr

greatness of wealth and power since
Mr. Dana, at the close of the War
for the Union, made the newspaper
his own and gave to it the individ-
uality and characteristics by which
it is now known to the world.

It remains to say that Mr. Dana,
like man}' other men who are posi-
tive combatants in the eager strife of
public affairs, is courteous, gentle
and affectionate in his relations with
his family and friends. He has ex-
cellent taste in pictorial art, and is
fond of ceramics and has accumu-
lated stores of porcelain, ancient
and modern. He has a strong love
of nature, and is learned about plants,
trees, fruits, and animals. At Doso-
ris, his island summer home on the
northern, shore of Long Island, he has
built plain but commodious dwellings
where he most enjoys himself in an
old age reasonably free from trouble
or care, and where, it is to be hoped,
he may continue to find happiness
during many added years.

The writer of this sketch has never
seen him, nor corresponded with him,
and cannot be accused of undue par-
tiality for him. Nevertheless, as he
never writes in criticism of any one
without carefully revising the man-
uscript and striking out all words
which appear harsher than the truth
warrants, now he reverses the process
and erases everything commending
Mr. Dana which seems likely to be
called extravagant praise. Enough
truth is left to make Xew Hampshire
proud of the son who lived on her
soil so short a time, but who has
never forgotten or dishonored his
birthplace, and has never failed to
be at all times and everywhere a
true American.

/49:

THE SPARE FRONT ROOM.
Clara Augusta Tra.sk.

I. remember early in my life how we children stood in awe
Of the majesty and magnitude of one powerful household law ;
How we longed to break and shatter it with every passing day,
But from some mysterious influence we dared not disobey ;
It hung o'er us relentless as the two-edged sword of doom —
" Don't let me catch you children in that spare front room ! "

That darkened, silent room, oh, a mystic charm it bore,

As sometimes a furtive glimpse we caught through the half-opened door ;

Its floor was painted yellow, there were islands here and there,

Formed by braided rugs constructed from the clothes we didn't wear ;

There were paper window curtains of a vivid shade of green,

And behind them danced the drowsy flies and black wasps thin and lean

A slippery hair-cloth sofa btood prim against the wall,

Two slippery chairs kept company each side the beaufet tall,

Brass-handled, stately, ancient, mahogany they said,

Descended from an ancestre>s for full a century dead ;

Above the narrow looking-glass drooped peacock's feathers gay,

And on the centre table the black-bound Bible lay.

And Grandma's " sampler" hung above the high-built mantel shelf —
A curious piece of handiwork that " Grandma did herself,"
And in the wide-mouthed fireplace the shining andirons spread
Their dragon feet, and spoke of fires whose brightness long had fled ;
And over ail the place there hung a deep, mysterious gloom.
That said, " Don't let me catch you in that spare front room."

When the minister came round to call, and read, and pray.
They rolled the paper curtains up so 's he could find his way ;
And when a wedding was on hand the room was opened wide,
And all of heaven's sunshine fell upon the fair young bride :
And when a loved one passed beyond into the outward gloom,
The coffin stood in solemn state within the spare front room.

When I think upon my childhood's days spent on the dear old farm,

When father's care and mother's love kept our young lives from harm,

I feel a thrill of vague unrest, and memory brings to me

The house that caught the wild salt winds blown inward from the sea :

I hear again the warning voice long stilled within the tomb —

" Don't let me catch you children in that spare front room !

r?&

THE FIRST SXOWSHOK CLUB IX NEW HAMPSHIRE.

|J NANSEN, the

„*3i* famous Norwe-
\ gian scientist,
j who crossed
1 Greenland on
snowshoes, says
a the following
about snowshoeing as a sport :

"Can there be anything more
beautiful than the northern winter
landscape, when the snow lies foot
deep, spread as a soft, white mantle
over field and wood and hill ? Where
will one find more freedom and ex-
citement than when one glides swiftly
down the hillside through the trees,
one's cheek brushed by the sharp
cold air and frosted pine branches,
and one's eye, brain, and muscles
alert and prepared to meet every un-
known obstacle and danger which
the next instant may throw in one's
path? Civilization is, as it were,
washed clean from the mind and left
far behind with the city atmosphere
and city life; one's whole being is,
so to say, wrapped in one's snow-
shoes and the surrounding nature.
There is something in the whole
which develops soul and not body
alone."

In the winter of '87, the writer
of this article, with several others,
feeling the need of more outdoor
exercise during our long, severe
New Hampshire winters, pitched
upon snowshoeing as the only one
applicable to our case. Originally

By Edward French^ J/. D.

there were six of us who, obtaining
snowshoes from Montreal, besfan our
practice by traversing the level fields
south of Clinton street in the city of
Concord. We were not always mod-
erate in >our exercise, and feeling the
freedom, and exhilaration of the crisp
night air and the bright reflected
moonlight, would go more miles
than ourr untrained muscles could
bear, amd we suffered in consequence
the mat &e raquette. The true raquet-
teur kno/ws from experience to begin
slowly ;and gradually increase his
pace. The next winter we struck
out for more extended tramps, and
after mataiy exploring trips, both by
night a:cul by day, selected as the
most advantageous one that led
about five miles southwesterly from
the city.

This route for three miles was over
a road w'hose sides were free enough
from busiaes to give good clear '•shoe-
ing," or the fields were clear enough
for us to traverse the same distance.
When tfce snow was deep enough to
clear us irom the torment of barb wire
this was the favorite way. At the end
of this three miles there was a sharp
turn into an old wood road, broad
and smcoth enough to be delightful.
It is always wide enough to get
plenty aft. snow and narrow enough
to prevenit drifting.

Many a moonlight night did we
race through here, the slender birches
bending forward under their weight

FIRST SNOWSHOE CLUB IN NEW HAMPSHIRE.

171

of snow and seeming to bow a cordial
welcome to the raquetteu rs who left a
close, steam-heated house at S p. m.,
to make them a cheery call in the
cool, exhilarating night. After a
brisk tramp of five miles in the win-
ter air one feels hungry, and so for
two years we had in the woods at the

of provisions. Once when an ener-
getic and enterprising red squirrel
gnawed into the bag the tree bore a
new kind of cone, which on inspec-
tion proved to be sausages. The
tree was gracefully draped with pen-
dant links which gave it a Christmas
look. The little chickaree afterwards

"-v

v - 4

V i ' ' \ I A ■'

; ' K L

! ,

1 -■ ■

Going down to tre Pjnd.

end of our road a brush " leanto,"
where we usually stopped for a rest
and something to eat. A good, roar-
ing fire and a hot lunch gave us re-
newed courage for the tramp home.
A coffee pot, frying-pan, and a few
earthern mugs were cached under a
stump, and a canvas bag, tied in the
top of an evergreen out of the way of
foxes and skunks, held a small stock

became quite tame and depended con-
siderably upon our bounty. We
named him Santa Claus, and as long
as we frequented these woods he was
always a welcome guest.

It was an easy, but to some of
us not a welcome, transition from our
breezy, healthful " leanto " to the lit-
tle house at Montvue park. While
the "leanto" lacked many artificial

172

FIRST SNOWSHOE CLUB IN NEW HAMPSHIRE,

comforts and its heating facilities
were of a low class, yet it had com-
pensating advantages. The ventila-
tion was simply perfect, and it was
perpetually disnfected by the sweet
balsamic odors of the beautiful pines
and hemlocks. The cheerful, roar-
ing flames of the campfire warm that
vestige of barbarian blood we all
have and make it rush and whirl in
an impetuous current
through our tense arte-
ries, while a cast-iron
stove but rivets tighter
the bands of lethargy
which bind us to an
unhealthful civilization.

a secretary and treasurer, Mr. Edward
Batchelder. It was given a name.
"The Outing Club," and numerous
applications for membership were
made to the secretary.

It was evident that a new policy
must be adopted, and after a few
short months a new organization was
born of "The Outing Club." It had
a permanence and dignity which was

•V.

■*"\

■ -

• -

'*- ..--...■ J_^ _^--

V;.

House and the old

It has always been a fact of this
organization that the ranks are al-
ways full. It is so to-day and was
so from the first. The original six
increased to ten, there being six new
ones, for two of the original number,
finding snowshoeing too severe or
not congenial, gave way to others
who were eager to join. For one
winter the little house was used, but
when the spring came, with the rest
of the world, the club took on a
larger growth. It had risen to the
dignity of organization, and had a
president, Mr. George H. Colby, and

S£33

- ;■

never assumed before. It was incor-
porated . had shares of stock with an
assigned value, developed by-laws,
and an executive committee, and
voted in twenty members. The club
elected for president Edward French,
continuing Mr. Batchelder as secre-
tary and treasurer; and its executive
board began considering plans for
enlarging the little house at Montvue
park.

The purposes of the club were

FIRST SXOWSHOE CLUB IN NEW HAMPSHIRE.

/v>

multiplied, but leaving every mem- blaiice to the straggling, tribal organ-
ization which, held together onlv bv

the thin threads of congeniality, used
to tramp merrily over hill and dale or
race through the feathery arches of
the woodland. The location of " Fur-

ber free to indulge in snowshoeiug or
not, as he pleased. A new name
was taken, "The Snow-shoe Club,"
because it would perpetuate its old
purpose and served to crystalize the
memories of many a happy day and lough Lodge," the present home of
night in company with auburn-haired the club, is one of tireless beauty.
Santa Claus at the fragrant " leanto." From its broad piazza a continuous
Land was bought, and a new house chain of hills leads away and up to
built in front of the small one which
was retained as a kitchen. An un-
finished attic gave
room for a few beds
to accommodate a
belated member,
now and then. The
following winter a
barn was built con-
taining an ice-
house. Afterwards
an open shed was

the soft blue
peaks of a
dozen of the
white moun-
tains. In
the fore-
ground is
the silver
surface of
Penacook
lake, and the long attractive slopes
of Kearsarge with many noble hills
in the immediate vicinity. At the
southwest, Monadnock, Crotchet, and
the Uncanoonucs, rise above the
jumble of hills, and while not as ex-
tensive as the landscape to the north,
these mountains add much to the
my pulse leap now as I think of the beauty of the view. Visitors from
beautiful winter trees, spotless in the Appalachian club, than which
their pure white winter clothing or there are no better critics of scenery
tinted with the steely blue of the full in Xew England, pronounce it "one
winter moon. of the six most beautiful views in

The club of to-day bears no resem- New Hampshire." We are willing

•« "* ' "J" m- - '

. . -

added. At last the club, which may
be said to have lived a tramping,
vagabond existence, had a perma-
nent home. It had. risen from bar-
barism to civilization. But, alas!
we left behind us many a sweet, ex-
hilarating experience which makes

Some Interiors.

FIRST SNOWSHOE CLUB JA T NEW HAMPSHIRE.

to accept this generous appraisal of
its value.

The buildings are roughly finished
and furnished, and make no pretence
to elegance or effect. Its manage-
ment is unique, and as far as known
it is the first one of the kind in this
country. It is sui generis, and dif-
fers essentially from all other outing
clubs in the complete independence
and liberty enjoyed by its members.
Unconsciously it has buili itself to be
more like the famous Beefsteak club
of London than like any other exist-
ing organization for entertainment.

guished in art, politics, and literary
pursuits. The utmost freedom com-
patible with gentlemen and the com-
fort of others has been its aim, and
nothing in the way of buildings or
furniture has been held too good for
every day use. Wood, oil,, a few
provisions, and the necessary uten-
sils for a kitchen and dining-table
are kept supplied free for general
use. With the club's present way
of easy management, a small monthly
due of fifty cents a month for each
member, pays all the expenses. There
is no resident steward or janitor, but

■ ..-.

. . .. . _ - .- . .»

Furlough Lodge.

Its distinguished prototype was
founded in the time of David Gar-
rick, more than a centurv aero, and
still meets and has its peculiar din-
ners in the green room of Mr.
Irving' s theatre.

Like the distinguished gentlemen of
London, our club has a dinner on the
full of the moon of each month, cooked
and served by three of its members.
The members who make up this sup-
per committee are designated by the
club's president and notify the other
members of the club of the date.
Each member accepting an invita-
tion bears his share of the expense.

The club in its unpretentious, dem-
ocratic way has entertained United
States senators, congressmen, and
governors, with many others distin-

every nnember with his key resorts to
the clubhouse when so disposed and
takes rare of himself and leaves it
clean enough for the next member
who comes. It would seem impossi-
ble to find twenty-five men, drawn
chiefly ifrom professional and commer-
cial puirsuits, who would be more
congemal and who would so heartily
enjoy rtts privileges as do its members.
The tour mile walk from the city
alwayss provokes a vigorous appetite
and a.n enthusiastic appreciation of
the beautiful view from the broad
piazza-... It is an established fact that
the initroduction of croquet, lawn
tennis,,, and other out-door sports has
elevated the general health of the
American people. In this we claim
to have been of some use and cer-

MOMENTS OF LIGHT.

./O

tainly by cycling, trap shooting,
driving, hunting and fishing in sum-
mer, and snowshoeing in winter, have
added to the "sum of the world's
amusements." The introduction of
snowshoeing alone has given a new
sport and means of exercise, and in-
vigorated many a victim of steam
heat, where formerly there was noth-
ing but the enervating influence of
super-heated houses. Its example
has called into being three other out-
ing clubs in the city of Concord alone.
Everv individual member believes

tliat there is more good fellowship
compressed within the unpretentious
little house than elsewhere in this
vicinity. It has passed its ninth
birthday and has already many plans
of alteration and improvement under
consideration. Dr. I. A. Watson, its
third president, an enthusiastic snow-
shoer, has many plans for the ad-
vancement and success of the club.
As the years roll on they will some-
time see a handsome establishment to
parallel the rare beauty of the exten-
sive view.

MOMENTS OF LIGHT.

By Milo Benedict.

A PREACHER.

So true the life, so white the spirit's heat.
That though he spoke such thoughts as all have tl
And gave a text which scarce attention caught,
He forged us new and gave us wings tor feet.

II.

DISTINCTIONS IN MUSIC.

Why build so high your symphony of sound,
When in one tone a whole world can be found ?
I 'm thrilled to think what music I have heard
When soul meets soul in one soft-spoken word.

- III.

II K LPS.

All books, religions, arts; philosophies, —
The whole of memory, nature — every part, —
These helps I need, so deep the mysteries
I seek to understand in one true heart.

1 ought,

IV.

WINTER COI'KS NOT WITH LOVE.

O silvery cold, cold wind !
You cannot rule the hour
Since love can always find
A summer for its flower.

Because you killed the rose
What sovereign right have you ?
'Tis vain i Love has no foes :
June lasts the whole year through.

LOST IX THE WOODS.
By Rev. 0. R. Hunt.

) m

vNH evening, while
*J? we were seated on
^ the deacon's sea/,
around the camp
stove, who should put
in an appearance but
Will Smart, overseer
of the work in the
woods. " What bring you in here, dis
time of night ? " said Archie, the cook.
" I brought in a young lawyer who
is going over to Parmachenee," was
the reply.

Having heard much about this
lake and Camp Caribou, and its pro-
prietor, John Danforth, I at once said
to Mr. Smart, " I wish I had known
of this and I would have gone over
with him."

"All right now,'' said Smart, "for
he is not going until morning, and if
you wish we will take an early start
and I will drive you over to the
camp."

Anxious to make the trip I rose
and took breakfast with the lumber-
men at five o'clock, and at six o'clock
we were in the cutter en route for Ed
Blair's camp, four miles from the
lake on the direct route to Danforth's.
We were somewhat delayed by
meeting the teams, all of them seem-
ing to be in the worst places to pass,
but we did as best we could and
reached the camp, only to be told by
Billy Edwards, the cook, that the
lawyer and John Muggins had been
gone over an hour. My first t uehts

were to abandon the project, but hav-
ing undertaken the journey I decided
to persevere, and, laying in a good
stock of matches and two doughnuts
for a luncheon, took to the trail like
a bloodhound and followed it as
closely. About nine o'clock it began
to snow, and continued all day and
most of the night.

The trail, however, was easily fol-
lowed, and I patiently continued my
journey until 2 : 30 in the afternoon,
when I came to a place on the Ma-
galloway river, known as " Little
Boys Falls." The storm had in-
creased and the snow had so com-
pletely filled the trail that it was
utterly impossible to find any traces
of it. No one had ever told me of
this river, and where to go and what
to do I did not know.

My first impression was to go to
the right, and as that was the way
the wind was blowing, and I being
about ready to be blown by the wind,
I followed down the river to the right
about a quarter of a mile, but, find-
ing no signs of snowshoes, retraced
im- steps to the trail on the bank of
the river, and then went to the left,
up the river. I was somewhat weary
with my morning exercise, it being
the second time I ever was on snow-
shoes, and facing the storm looking
for tracks was rather discouraging,
especially when I could not find any ;
so I turned about for the trail on the
shore of the river a second time.

LOST IN THE WOODS.

*77

Then I thought I would cross the
river and find either their trail or
some spotted line of Danforth's, but
alas! there were no signs given, and
I returned to the trail on the shore of
the river a third time to decide upon
further movements. It was now 3 : 30
in the afternoon, and knowing the
night would soon overtake me, I
knew not what to do. Had I an
axe and a blanket I could build me
a shelter and camp for the night, but
these I did not have, and the pros-
pect looked so discouraging, that I
gave up all hope, even of life, and
laid myself down to die.

I cannot describe the feeling which
came over me while there, for none
but a lost man can understand it;
suffice it to say it was anything but
pleasant; but I hoped I should soon
chill and then die. While lying there
in this condition, with the snow fast
covering my body, something said to
me, "This is suicide; rise, do what
you can, and trust God for results."
Encouraged by this thought I arose,
and asked God to help me and guide
me.

The only feasible thing for me to
do now was to take the back track,
and while it seemed like a hopeless
task to reach Blair's camp that night,
yet I started with the determination
to do what I could towards it. I had
no difficult)* in following the trail so
long as it was through the heavy-
wooded growth and the daylight
lasted ; but when that was gone and
I had come out into the opening,
where years previous the lumbermen
had operated, I was in trouble again,
and with no trail before me and no
daylight to find one, I was compelled
to stop, and give up all hope of reach-
ing the camp that night.

I was now in the old logging works,
and there being some uprooted trees
near the trail where I was standing, I
took to them for shelter. Turned as
they were, one over the other, there
was underneath of these trees an
opening, and by the aid of one of
my snowshoes I made it larger; and,
b\- the time I had come to the turf-
covered roots of the trees, I had
prepared a good-sized winter camp.
Then I set out for a birch tree and
some wood, that I might have a fire.
The first was soon found, but, owing
to miy eagerness in securing the bark,
I went round and round the tree,
only to lose my trail back to my
newiy-made camp.

I had secured as much bark as I
could earn-, and after wandering
abourt for a while trying to find my
tracks, threw down my burden, say-
ing to myself : "It is no use; die I
must, and I might as well meet it
now as any time." Just then, the
wind! drew a piece of the bark to my
right out of sight, and to my surprise
there was the entrance to my newly-
made camp, and I gathered up my
birch bark and took it in.

Be&ore leaving my camp to go in
search of wood. I prepared several
birch -bark torches and stuck them
in the snow, but, in my attempt to
remove my gloves, found them both
frozen on. If I only had one hand to
use I could get my matches and light
a torch, but it was no use trying, so
I took first thought and thrust my
right hand under my clothing, and
after keeping it there a short time
I rennoved the glove on my right
hand, and by the aid of my knife
the left one was opened and off.

For a while I had a beautiful illu-
mination, and the tree tops were

i 7 8

LOST IN THE WOODS.

plainly discovered above the snow went my match. I was now reduced
with dry limbs broken off, giving a to the brimstone end of the only dry
good supply of fuel. I took it to my match I had, and not knowing at
camp, guided by the light and smoke that time that a fellow could rub a
of the torch, and began to build a wet match in his hair and then light

it, I proceeded to dig a
~\\ hole in the side of my
snow-walled camp, large
enough to admit my head,
hands, and some kind-
ling, in which position I
scratched cautiously but
successfully, and soon had

I !

• . ■

.3'

i <&

. 1

■•■"

,J-

■'■'■•

a good fire.

The first thing after
having a fire was to dry
my matches and clothing.

fire. I did not have to wait long
before my matches were all wet save
three which I had left in my match-
box. The first one tried was just in
season to be blown out by a gust of
wind coming in at the entrance, and
while placing some bark in front of
it the thought occurred to me that
I had better provide a chimney for
the smoke to go out, so out I went
on top of the upturned trees to dig a
hole. Removing one of my snow-
shoes to use as a shovel, I stepped
back just a little, and down I went
between the limbs of the trees into
my camp below. It was quite a
quick way to build a chimney, and
I had the privilege of taking out
some loose snow which had fallen
in, but then, I had a chimney just

for I was wet through
with perspiration. By the time this
was done my wood was burned up,
and I went out ill search for more.
In fact, the entire night was spent
in gathering wood and watching it
burn. I can not tell you how I
dr jaded the hours of that long
uig.it, but, contrary to my expec-
tation, the time passed so rapidly
that when I looked at my watch
and saw it was quarter past four
in the morning I could not be-
lieve it. I thought possibly I had
forgotten to wind it or something
had happened to it ; but not so,
and my heart did leap for joy as
I sang the long-metre doxology and
prepared myself for a nap. Having
a lot of good coals and some hot
stones in the bed of mv fire. I curled

the same, and attempted a second up in as small a compass as possible

time to kindle a fire.

In separating my two remaining
matches I broke one of them, but
took the whole one and scratched it.
To my sorrow, I learned the draft of
that chimney was directly opposite
from what it was intended, and out

and with feet to the fire went to
sleep.

My nap was short but refreshing,
and had it not been for lk old Jack
Frost" breathing in my face with
his breath, eight degrees below zero,
I should have enjoyed it much longer,

LOST IN THE WOODS.

but as it was, it was long enough for
two toes to freeze, and I was glad of
an opportunity to exercise.

It was now 5 o'clock, the storm
had ceased, the wind had changed,
and so had the purpose of that chim-
ney, and the result was, in my effort
to re-kindle my fire, the wind blew
down into the embers and I was the
unhappy recipient of a hot cinder in
each eye. The left one was closed
entirely, and I tied my handkerchief
over it, while the right one was
partly closed, and I was obliged to
raise the lid with my finger that I
might see at all.

In this one-eyed condition I set out
at 6 o'clock to find my lost trail of
the night before. To my joy it was
soon found and easily followed until
I came to a steep ledge. With pleas-
ure I remembered sliding down this
place when I went over, but now the
act of sliding up was a task too much
for me to undertake, and thinking I
could husband my strength by going
round the hill, I made the attempt.
only to cross the trail; unnoticed, and
in a circle reach the very place, at
at 9 : 30, where I had
camped the night be-
fore.

Again 1 wa s con-
scious of being lost, but
a second time I set out
and followed the trail
to the steep ledge, and
not having the strength
to climb it or the cour-
age to go round it as
before, I turned to the
left, and after one hour's travel, as
I supposed going round the ledge,
I came out a second time at my
camping place.

It was now about half-past ten,

and what to do I did not know. I
set out again for the high ledge, but
before reaching it I saw down in the
valley to the right an old logging
camp. I went to it, and upon find-
ing a bridge near by, decided it must
be the old half-way camp where the
tote teams stopped when taking sup-
plies from Pittsburg to Parmaehenee
lake.

There being a lot of straw in one of
the rooms of this old camp, I shook
it up for a bed, placed on my snow-
shoes and some pieces of boards for
blavukets, and crawled in to refresh
myself with sleep. I awoke at 12
o'clock, nearly frozen, and at once
stanted, as I thought, on the direct
road! to the First lake. Coming to
a girdled tree, it occurred to me that
this was the tree which one of the
sportsmen had marked, indicating
where to turn off from the old tote
road and go down to the Second
lake.

H was now happy, and confident
that I was going in a direct course
for Blair's camp. Soon, however, I
came out into some low land, and a

little before me on the right was a
steep mountain. Again I was as-
sured in my own mind that I was
on the right road, and the mountain
was old " Bose Buck," just back of

i So

LOST IN THE WOODS.

my home camp. Having talked a
good deal about the view from " Bose
Buck," I looked at my watch, and
finding it only i o'clock, thought I
would go up the mountain and take
in the sights.

The side of the mountain was all
cleared, and although quite steep I
persevered until about half way up.
when a little twig which I was hold-
ing on to gave way, and down I
went, heels over head, into the light
snow, on an angle of about forty-five
degrees, minus one snowshoe. The
more I strove to get out the deeper I
went in, and the situation became a
little discouraging, but I finally suc-
ceeded in removing the other snow-
shoe and placing it under my left
side and rolled over on to it. In
that position I beat down the snow
about my feet and legs and formed
quite a firm foundation to stand on.
and thus by a desperate struggle I
succeeded in getting on to my feet
again. Fortunate for me my last
snowshoe was below me, and I
crawled to it on the other one. To
my sorrow and discomfort the strap
on my snowshoe had broken, and a
part of it was lost ; my only substi-
tute was a suspender.

It was indeed a critical moment
with me, for if I took one of my
suspenders the whole responsibility
would rest upon the other, but I took
the risk, and soon I had my shoes
adjusted and went down the moun-
tain a wiser man than I went up, to
say nothing about the sightseeing.

In going down the mountain I
went the easiest way, and to my joy,
at the foot of the mountain in the low
land there was an open brook, and
I got my first drink of water. Pre-
vious to this I had not been very

thirsty, but no sooner did the water
touch my tongue than it seemed im-
possible for me to take the bark cup
from my lips, and I guess I got pretty
full, at least it overpowered me, and
lest I should give way to my feelings
and go to sleep, I clung for life to a
little tree.

I have no idea as to the time I re-
mained in this condition, but the first
thing I saw on recovering conscious-
ness was a spotted tree at my side,
and a hand rail supported by two
forked sticks over the brook. I knew
this was the work of man and the
trail went somewhere, but where I
did not know, and it went directly
opposite from the course I was going.
At once I realized, as never before,
the fact that I was lost, but here was
this trail, and as I could not rely
upon my own judgment, I decided
to follow it, thinking if I did not live
to find the end of it some one would
at least find my bones.

After a long, hard tramp for about
three hours I came to quite a little
hill, and as the trail led up over it I
resolved to follow it, live or die, and
taking off my snowshoes I put them
on my hands and crawled up on all
fours to the top. While lying there
on my side I discovered in the dis-
tance a small camp. My first impres-
sions were that it was the one where
I had taken my noonday nap, but,
upon closer inspection, I saw a stove-
pipe sticking out through the roof,
and with the bound of a deer I was
on my feet wending my way to \t r
and for my comfort, and I believe my
life, I am indebted to John Danforth
and Rump Pond camp. The pict-
ure herewith given is a view of the
camp taken in summer, and while
there is more of it to be seen as yon

LOST IN THE WOODS.

181

now see it, and happy hearts sitting
near by, yet there never was a time
when it looked so well to me as then,
and the supper I had there that night
was also better than either of those
standing there could prepare, save
Danforth himself, who is sitting on
the bow of the boat beside the man
with the paddle.

The door of this camp had a half-
window in it, and knowing that he
who elimbeth up some other way is a
thief and a robber, I proposed to go

as freely as I did that. There was
also a good cook stove, and plenty of
dry wood in the corner. - So I built a
fire and began housekeeping.

With pail and axe I went to the
pond for water, but ere I had chopped
long my strength failed me, and the
old all-gone feeling of nervous pros-
tration came on the same as when I
clung to the tree when I drank the
water, and as there was nothing to
cling to now I sunk down to a bed in
the snow. With great exertion I

jjasar ~W2F3

8*>

-•

».

■- - ; ■>

- •

... .

- -

in at the door. Removing the snow-
shoe from my right foot and standing
upon them both, with my right foot
held up in my hand, I kicked for all
I was worth and was successful at it
for away went the glass and down
went the shutters, and I walked in to
take account of stock.

On a wire across the rear end of
the camp were three pairs of heavy
woolen blankets, in the centre was a
table bearing a lamp, a box of
matches, and a six-quart pail of
molasses. This molasses being the
first filling stuff I had found for two
days, save the water at the foot of
the mountain, I helped myself to it

filled my pail with the chopped ice
and dragged it beside me as I crawled
l>C:ck to camp. I put the ice in the
teakettle, which was on the floor, but
I could neither raise myself nor it, and
in this exhausted condition I acci-
dentally inhaled the hot air from the
oven of the stove, and it refreshed
me so that I was in a short time all
right again, and began preparations
for supper.

One blow with the axe raised the
cover of a big, blue .chest, lock and
all, and there, to my joy, were re-
vealed groceries enough to last me a
month. I' fried some salt pork and
flapjacks, and made a pot of tea,

I«2

LOST IN THE WOODS.

yes, it was tea, strong and hot, I
assure you. and no baby drink.

I must now revert for a moment to
the water at the foot of the mountain.
If I was to pass through another such
an experience I would not drink any
water, for it created such a thirst that
I constantly ate snow all the after-
noon, the very worst thing one can
do on an empty stomach, as it chills
the stomach and does not quench
thirst. Now, as I sat down to eat,
no sooner had I taken a drink of my
hot tea than there was a reaction of
the stomach, and I was seized with
violent cramp. My head was drawn
back, my arms drawn up, my hands
clinched, and my stomach felt as
though it would burst. In this con-
dition I took to the blankets and in a
short time went to sleep. . T do not
know how long I slept, but as soon as
I was awake I was conscious of the
location of my stomach, and the dis-
turbing elements therein. At once I
sprang out of the blankets and hast-
ened for the washbasin and anxiously
waited to find out whether tea was to
be thrown up or molasses thrown
down, and which was to have posses-
sion of my stomach. The fire had
gone out, the camp was cold, and
there 1 stood, washdish in hand, a fit
looking subject for an artist, wonder-
ing what I could do. when, presently,
my eye rested upon a jar of pickles,
and I helped myself to them as freely
as I did to the molasses, and the
pickles decided all controversy should
cease, and hunger should hold sway.

In obedience thereto I rebuilt my
fire, warmed my tea and flapjacks,
eating them as soon as warm. Sup-
per being over 1 decided to lay myself
away in the blankets, but I had
scarcelv covered my head when I

heard the creaking of snowshoes and
a voice from without saying, "Are
you in here, Mr. Hunt ? " To which
I replied, " I am, and there is room
for more." To my surprise it was
Ed Blair, boss of the lumber camp,
and John Huggins, guide of the
young lawyer to Camp Caribou.

And now my rescue, briefly told,
was as follows: Huggins returned
from Camp Caribou next morning,
and as there had fifteen inches of
snow fallen, thought he would rather
retrace his steps than make new ones,
consequently he passed by where I
had camped the night previous about
ten o'clock that morning and reached
Blair's camp at two o'clock in the
afternoon. Inquiry being made by
the cook, "how the minister stood
his journey," the reply was " I
haven't seen him," and at once it
was decided that he had lost his way.
and the horn was sounded, and the
crew ran for the camp to ascertain
the trouble. Kach one volunteered
to go and search for me, but it was
finally decided that, Blair and Hug-
ging would be best able to find me.
It was now three o'clock when they
set out from the camp. They took a
good supply of food, blankets, and
some tools to make a sled to draw me
in on if necessary. Huggins led the
way to m}- camping place the first
night, and then they tracked me,
making; all my circles, until eight
o'clock in the evening, when Hug-
gins gave out and was obliged to
camp. Blair though, t he would go
on a little farther and soon came to
the trail, which he knew led to Rump
Pond camp, and when at the brook
finding my lurch drinking cup knew
at once I was alive and able to care
for myself and would be in Rump

LOST LV THE WOODS.

i*3

- •- . , r .. .. ... .. .. , • j^^-

aP-JtfgBAlfc-^wJ .J..-^«— :■!■■ .' •'■ - —.

Pond camp that night if X followed
the trail.

With this evidence Blair returned
to where he had left Huggins, and
the favorable report so animated him
that he was able to go on, and they
reached the camp at ten minutes past
nine o'clock. Next morning we left
Rump Pond camp at six o'clock, and
in five minutes' time were in the tote
road from Chesham, Can., to Camp
Caribou. In my attempt to climb the
mountain the day before I sprained
my knee and it now gave out entirely.
Blair remained with me while Hug-
gins started in great haste for Camp
Caribou, to get a sled to draw me in
on, but ere he had been gone twenty
minutes, he met Lewis Bragg, with a
four-horse team on his way to Canada
for hay for Danforth. The young
lawyer and Danforth were with Bragg
going up as far as Rump Pond camp
for a little outing:.

Huggins returned with the team,
and for the first time I was standing
in the presence of John Danforth.
I gave him my hand as a friend,
but found him to be a brother; and
he wrapped me in his own blankets
and ordered his team to convey me
to Camp Caribou, where I was re-
ceived by his wife as a mother, and
where I remained a welcome guest
for nearly four weeks, and then was
guided safely back to Ed Blair's log-
ging camp by mine host himself.

I remained in the logging camp
until the first of April, when I re-
turned to my home for my wife who
accompanied me in my wanderings
back to the lake, where we remained
in Biy camp, as shown in the picture,
during the summer. To my mind the
whole transaction is a clear illustra-
tion of the Gospel following the law,
one never knows how far round it will
fcaJbe him, or when he will get out.

~VT^^^\?-^-

tlH.

MORNING AMONG THE HILLS.

By George Bane reft Griffith.

With". royal flush the mountains burn;

Each bare uplifted brow

In courtesy might love to turn

And greet the day spring now.

Whose overflowing glory they

In silence drink, — so dawns the dav !

BERLIN: A TOWN OF TO-DAY.
By Ed- card C. JViles, Esq.

STiT is probably safe to
assert that the pres-
ent condition and
prospects for the
future of no town
in New Hampshire
owe so little to the
forethought and labor of former gen-
erations as do those of Berlin. The
real founders of Berlin are the men
of the present generation, — it might
even be said, of the present day, —
and whatever of good or evil, of dis-
aster or prosperity, may befall this
metropolis of the back-woods will be
due to the industry and sagacity or
to the negligence and incompetence
of those who to-day are determining
the lines along which the develop-
ment of its natural resources and of
its moral, religious, and intellectual,
activities shall be carried on. But
little as the past has influenced the
present, and little as this town offers
of opportunity for historical and gen-
ealogical research, it still has a past

which is of interest, if for no other
reason, from its contrast with the
present.

The territory comprised in the
present limits of the town was
granted in 1 77 1 to a number of
English gentlemen, and was called
Maynesborough, in honor of Sir
William Mayne, the most distin-
guished among the original grantees.
The grant was made upon certain
conditions, among which were the
following :

"Second That the said grantees
shall settle or cause to be settled
Fifteen Families by the i M day of
January 1774, who shall, be actually
cultivating some part of the said
Land and resident on the same, & to
Continue making further and addi-
tional Improvement, Cultivation and
Settlement of the Premises so that
there shall be actually settled thereon
Sixty Families by the r r day of Jan-
uary 17S2, on penalty of the forfeiture
of any and every delinquent's Share

BERLIN: A TOWN OF TQ-DAY.

i8<

and of such share or shares reverting
to us our Heirs and Successors to be
by us or them enter'd upon and re-
granted to such of our Subjects as
shall effectually Settle and Cultivate
the Same :

"Third That all white and other
Pine Trees being and growing within
& upon the said Tract of Land fit for
Masting our Royal Navy be Carefully
preserved for that use & none to be
Cut or fell'd without our special
Licence for so doing first had and
obtained upon the penalty of the for-
feiture of the Right of such Grantee
his Heirs and Assigns to us our
Heirs and Successors as well as being-
subject to the penalty of any Act or
Acts of Parliament that now are or
hereafter shall be enacted.

"Fifth. Yielding and paying there-
fore to us our Heirs and Successors
on or before the i~' day of January
1 78 1, the rent of one Far of Indian
Corn only if lawfully demanded."

The settlement contemplated in the
charter was never made, nor was
there any attempt at settlement
until well along in the present cen-
tury. For many years the forest
wilds were invaded only by the hun-
ter or the trapper, or in later times,
along the Androscoggin, by the lum-
berman, who found in its richly
wooded river-banks a treasure easily
transported by nature's highway to
the settlements in Maine. Through
Berlin occasional bands of maraud-
ing Indians passed to descend upon
the early settlers at Gilead and
Bethel, and through Berlin they re-
turned with their captives on the
way to their Canadian homes. But
except for these occasional visitors

Mayueshorough remained an untrod-
den wilderness.

The Declaration of Independence
was proclaimed, and the Revolution
was inaugurated and carried on to
its successful issue. America was
a second time embroiled in war with
the mother country and was again
victorious, but Maynesborough slept
unmoved alike by reverses and tri-

■

i ','■■• >

1
1

h -

itejsm

^,-A

"•■<■

The Alpine Cascade.

umphs, unconscious of Lexington
and Bunker Hill, of Bennington and
Trenton, of Valley Forge and York-
town, and her rocky hillsides never
echoed to the names of Washington
and Stark, of Jefferson and Adams,
of Perry and Paul Jones.

But the era of activity following the
termination of the War of [812 was
marked in this country by a general
extension of the outposts of civiliza-

iS6

BERLIN: A TOWN Of TO-DAY.

tion. and in iS2r a few adventurous
spirits started from Gilead, the first
town on the Androscoggin below the
Maine line, and passing through
what is now the towns of Shelbume
and Gorham. settled on the fertile
meadows in the northern part of
M a ynesborough .

Mount Forist, from the Heights.

The first house was built in that
year by William Sessions, on the
easterly side of the river, on what
was afterwards known as the Benja-
min Thompson farm. The house,
which has long since disappeared,
is said to have stood across the road
from the present house, on a slight
rise of land above the intervale. A
few others followed within a short
time, and before long a clearing was
made on the westerly side of the
Androscoggin, and a house was built
by Samuel Blodgett on the farm
which was afterwards owned by Reu-
ben II. Wheeler, and very near where
the house of John W. Greenlaw now
stands.

The first settlers were farmers, and
picked out the land best suited for
agricultural purposes, and there are
to-day no better farms along the An-
droscoggin valley than those which
were first tilled bv William Sessions

and Samuel Blodgett.

But the great

inducement to settlement in Berlin
has never been the opportunities
which it offers for agricultural pur-
suits. The tillable land is very
scarce, and there are not more than
twelve or fifteen small farms, all told,
within the town limits.

But whatever of prosperity it has
attained or may hereafter
attain is due to the forests
by which it is encircled,
and to the stream which
affords both a reach-
means of transportation
for the forest products
and the power by which
they are converted into a
great variety of market-
able forms. The An-
droscoggin, rising in the
Rangeleys, furnishes the
only outlet of that great chain of
lakes, and receives, in addition to
the drainage of its own large valley,
that o-if the Magalloway, the Swift,
and Dead Diamonds, Clear Stream,
and a Earge number of other streams
through which are discharged the
waters of numerous lakes and ponds.
This .great volume of water is com-
pressed at Berlin between narrow
walls of' solid rocks, and pours over
a succession of rapids and abrupt
cataracts with tremendous force, fall-
ing about four hundred feet in six
miles, and furnishing perhaps the
greatest: water power in New Eng-
land, if.' not in the East. It is this
water power which has given to Ber-
lin its character as a mill town. And
it was not long before the possibilities
latent im this power were recognized.
In i8r.'6 Thomas Green located a
mill at the head of the falls, near
where the Berlin Mills saw-mill now
stands, and a year later purchased

BERLIN: A TOWN OF TO-DAY

tS 7

land and a mill privilege about a
mile lower down the stream, erected
a saw-mill and a grist-mill, and built
the house now known as the Scribner
house. Later he moved his grist-
mill to the power opposite, where the
store of C. C. Gerrish ^c Co. now
stands. His sons, Daniel and Amos
Green, in 1829, put up a shingle-
and clap-board-mill near their father's
saw-mill. Daniel Green afterwards
built and operated several mills on
the Upper AmmonOosuc and Dead
rivers, and on various sites 011 the
Androscoggin. In the course of his
experience as a mill owner he lost
five mills by fire and one by a freshet,
but always built again, either on the
same site or in a new place.

Mill privileges were plenty in those
days and laud was cheap. Daniel
Green is said to have owned at one
time or another the entire water
power at Berlin, and nearly all the
land in town. Among other early
mill owners were Dexter Wheeler.
who at one time operated the mill
built by Daniel and Amos Green :
Reuben II. Wheeler, who owned sev-
eral lumber-mills, at various times.
and also for some time carried on
a Atarch-mill : Ira Mason, who ran a
shingle- mill on Bean brook; and
Samuel M. Andrews, who owned
and operated several mills on Dead
river.

In 1829 there were enough settlers
in Maynesbprough to warrant its in-
corporation as a town, and it was ac-
cordingly incorporated by the legisla-
ture in that year. But, probably on
account of the general feeling of hos-
tility to Great Britain then prevalent
in this country, and the desire to
efface all reminders of British sover-
eignty, the historic and significant

name of Maynesborough was dis-
carded, and the new town was chris-
tened Berlin.

Several years ago. when there was
talk of applying for a city charter, it
was suggested that a return might be
made to the original name of the
town; but the name of Berlin has
become so associated with her man-
ufacturing and commercial interests
that it is hardly probable, meaning-
less and insignificant though her pres-
ent name is. that the change will ever
be made.

The first town meeting was held
September 1. 1829, at the house of
Andrew Cates. The check-list used
at the March meeting in the follow-
ing year contained the names of but
fifteen voters, representing only
seven family names.— Blodgett. Bean,
CatStcs, Evans, Green. Thompson, and
Wheeler, — and indicating, on ordi-
nary principles of computation, a
total population of about seventy-
five. To-day her check-list of eight
hunndred and eighty names represents
a population of about 6,000, the small
proportion of voters to inhabitants
being due to the fact that now a
large part of the population are of
foreign birth, while at the time of
the. first town meeting, ' in all proba-
bility, every man of legal age was a
voter.

The growth of the town was steady,
but slow, for the next forty or fifty
j*ears. A considerable impetus was
given by the construction of the
Atlantic ec St. Lawrence Railway, —
now the Grand Trunk, — which
reaiched Berlin in 1852. Two years
later the branch track, known as the
Berlin Mills branch, was built to the
mill of PI. Winslow & Co., the larg-
est mill in town, which was after-

188

BERLIN: A TOWN OF TO-DAY,

. \r

"mm ■ mm

- — aSS5£JJ6Sa£

Berlin National Bank.

wards made the nucleus of the plant
•of the Berlin Mills Company.

Waiting's map of Coos county,
published in iS6i. gives the popula-
tion of Berlin as four hundred and
forty, and a glance at the check-list
will show that the family names
prominent in 1830 still predominated,
indicating that the increase in popu-
lation was clue in very small meas-
ure to immigration from without.

The records of these intermediate
years are very meagre. The town
records, if intact, would throw very
little light upon the life of the
town ; and by an unfortunate accident
a part of them were lo.^t at the time
-of the fire which in 1892 destroyed
the building owned by A. X. Gilbert.
in which were the town offices. The
records which were lost were in a

: . « - '-r

Clement Block.

safe, which after the fire could not be
opened, and was sold and taken out
of town, records and all. And it has
since been impossible to discover the
whereabouts of the missing books.
If there should ever again be a fire
in the building in which the records
are kept, a similar accident could not
well occur, — as, by the wise fore-
thought of the town authorities, they
are not now kept in a safe.

However, the records available will
suffice to show who were the strong-
men of the town in those days.
Prominent among them was Dexter
Wheeler, mill owner and trader, who
held all the offices in the gift of the
town, being for twenty-four years
town clerk, and at one and the same
time selectman, town clerk, and
treasurer. Reuben H. Wheeler, lum-
berman, mill owner, and farmer, was
a man of keen intellect, forceful, and
energetic. He lived on the place
now owned by his son-in-law, John
W. Greenlaw. Merrill C. Forist,
whose name is borne by the huge
cliff towering above the town, was
for many years proprietor of the hotel
at the Falls. He was a man of com-
manding presence, and was a noted
character among all who travelled
this way. He was for some years
town clerk, and no town can show
handsomer records than were kept
by him. Gardner C. Paine, partner
of Dexter Wheeler, would have been
a leading man in any community.
He is credited by those who knew
him with having possessed an un-
usual combination of quickness of
perception and soundness of judg-
ment. In small places men of mark,
almost without exception, arouse en-
mities and jealousies among those
less favored than they ; but in Ber-

BERLIN: A TOWN OF TO-DAY.

1S9

liii all speak well of Gardner Paine.
Ira Mason was for many years a
prominent man in the commercial
and political life of the town. He
was a successful merchant, and owned
land which he had the sagacity to
retain, and which the rapid growth
of the town in later years has made
exceedingly valuable.-

J. W. Wheeler, or Woodman

Wheeler, commended the ingenuity
of Wheeler's method of carrying: off
the sawdust to the river hy the belt
and box, and said nobody else would
have thought of it, anybody else
would have wheeled it out."

This lawsuit grew out of an at-
tempt made by Daniel Green to con-
vert his mill-pond on Dead river into
a crauberrv bosr. About sixty acres

:■---

■ * ■ ,

r. i — ■
-

"' - r

:•

. - - N

■

:* m»

Residences of H. T. Sands and B. L. Pike. Residence of E. C. Niles.

Residence of H. J B-Jwn.
Furbish Resjdence. _ . Residence of W. C. Perkins.

W T heeler, as he was commonly called,
together with his brother, Reuben H.
Wheeler, was for some years in con-
trol of the mill at Jericho, where
they did a large business. A record
of his mechanical ingenuity has been
preserved in the case of Green v.
Gilbert, reported in 60 N. H. 144, in
which "a witness testified that on
one occasion, before 1873, the plain-
tiff (Daniel Green), coming into the
-defendant's mill, then owned bv one

of lend was thoroughly drained and
pi a rated with cranberry vines, at a
very considerable expense; but
White Mountain winters and saw-
dust proved fatal to the experiment,
and the money invested was a total
loss..

Daniel Green was for many years
the most prominent figure in the
town. He was born in Shelburne
in 1 80S, and removed to Maynesbor-
ousrh in 1826 with his father, Thomas

190

BERLIN: A TOWN OF TO-DAY

m b

rr ,

I I

:: r ' :

5s.

. j&&*£ . :

■ -. ' ■-

■

,.-. w.

■'•;."•■■

Mefodis: Cnurcn. Ccngregafor 1 Chciffctl S* 8arnabas's Church, Protestant Episcopal.

St. Kieran's Church and Rectory, Irish Roman CalMtfec. St. Paul's Churc\ Scandinavian Lutheran.

St. Anne's Church, French Roman Catholic. French- Convert, formerly the Cascade House.

Green. From the time when, at the
age of twenty-one, he built the shin-
gle- and clapboard-mill above men-
tioned, until his death, at the age of
eighty-four, he was actively engaged
in business of one form or another,
meeting with numerous obstacles and

undergoing repeated reverses, but
overcoming them all by the force of
his indomitable energy and persis-
tence, and continually, to the very
end of his life, enlarging the scope
of his operations.

He not only owned and operated

BERLIN: A TOWN OF TO-DAY.

the lumber-mills of which mention
has already been made, but also for
some time manufactured mill machin-
ery in a shop on the site of the build-
ing now known as the Revere House ;
was engaged in a considerable mer-
cantile business, and in his later
years dealt quite largely in real
estate, both water privileges and
land ; almost all the land which has
formed the stock in trade of the
various land companies organized
within the past five years having
been purchased from him or his
heirs. He also invested largely in
Florida property, and was the owner
of valuable orange groves in that
state ; and it was in Florida that he
died. He left a large family, his
estate being divided among fifty-four
heirs in the direct line of descent.

His eldest son, Sullivan D. Green,
was possessed of considerable literary
ability. Educated at the University
of Michigan, he served through the
Civil War in a Michigan regiment,
and at the same time acted as war
correspondent of the Detroit Free
Press, and for eight years after the
war was on the editorial staff of the
same paper. Returning to Berlin to
assist in -the management of his
father's business, he held various
town offices, and finally died in the
prime of life, being survived by his
father.

There were many more who dur-
ing those days of small things were
prominent in the commercial, politi-
cal, and social life of the town ; but as
the object of this sketch is not to give
a complete genealogy of the older
families of the place, but rather to
show what sort of place it was and is,
and what characteristics are most to
be noted among its former and pres-

ent residents, enough has been said
to answer the requirements as far as
the men of the past are concerned.

The town, until from 1S75 to 1880,
made no noticeable growth. For
almost half a century after its incor-
poration it contained no organized
religious body, and no church edi-
fice. In '.' Lawrence's New Hamp-
shire Churches," published in 1S56,
is this statement: "The following
three towns have each less than 100
inhabitants — Cambridge, Di xv.il/le,
and Millsfield ; the following: less
than 200 — Berlin, Clarksville, Dum-
nier, Errol, and Randolph. In none
of these eight towns is there any
church unless Clarksville and Dum-
mer be excepted, where a church of
66 Freewill Baptists are found." The
three points of interest in this quota-
tion are the population of Berlin at
that time, the tact that there was
then no church organization in the
place, and the naive use of the word
'" unless."

The first church society organized
in the town was that of the Congre-
gationalists, under the Rev. A. J.
Benedict, who was also the pastor
at Gorham, that place being then
considerably larger than Berlin. In
18S2 this society, largely through the
liberality of the Berlin Mills Com-
pany, built the first church edifice in
the town, at Berlin Mills village.
Their present pastor, the Rev. J. B.
Carruthers, has made himself as gen-
erally known by all classes of citizens
as any resident of the town.

The Universalists organized a
society in 18S6, and their place of
worship, standing beside the Berlin
House, was built in the following
year. The society is at present with-
out a resident pastor.

BERLIN; A TOWN OF TO-DAY.

In 1SS0 the Roman Catholic^ built
the church which stands at the cor-
ner of Pleasant and Church streets ;
in their case, as in that of the Con-
grcgationalists, the Berlin church
was an off-shoot from Gorham, and

it had no settled pastor r . ■

until 1885, when the
Rev. N. Cournoyer took !
the charge which he
still retains. As the Fj
number of K n g 1 i s h
speaking members of
this church increased,
it was deemed advisa-
ble to create a separate
parish for their convenience, and ac-
cordingly St. Kieran's church was
built in 1894— '95, under the ener-
getic management of the Rev. E.
D. Mackey.

Berlin is a polyglot town, how-
ever, and services in two lan-
guages do not meet the require-
ments of all her citizens. Accord-

;SiGence

f A H. Eastr

idence of Mrs. S. D, Green.

Berlin srave freelv

both of thought and

188'

the Scandinavian

Lutherans of the town formed them
selves into a parish,
and built St. Paul's ! "

church in " Norwe-
gian village," and
secured the services
of a resident Scan-
dinavian pastor, the
Rev. S. N. Garmoe.
St. Barnabas Mis-
sion, of the Protes-
tant Episcopal
church, was organ-
ized by the labors
of the Rev. Wm.
Lloyd Himes, of Concord. The mis-
sion owes both its comely edifice and
the land on which it stands to the
generosity of Mr. Henry H. Fur-
bish, A\ho during his residence in

of money to every
enterprise likely to be of benefit to
the town. The Rev. \V. B. Mac-
master is now in charge of the mis-
sion.

The Methodists, after worshipping
for some time in the Universalist edi-
fice, have built for themselves a com-
modious structure, the first church
building on the west side of the
Grand Trunk Railway. The services
of their pastor, the Rev. F. C. Pot-
ter, give great satis-
faction to the mem-
bers of his congrega-
tion.

If to be without
doctors or lawyers is

Berlin House and
Universalist Church

•""'-"^^

Wilson House.

BERLIN: A TOWN OF TO-DA)

*93

has been the senior forty years of age

to be happy, Berlin must have en-
joyed over fifty years of unalloyed
bliss; for until iSSi she had to go to
Gorham for her law and her medicine,
as well as her theology.

In that year Dr. Ward well, who
from Gorham had long ministered to
the ills of Berlin people, decided to
make his home in the up-river town,
which was then beginning to show
some signs of its future growth. He
was followed*, before long by Dr. F.
A. Colby, who, since the death of
Dr. Wardwell
physician of the town
in point of residence.
There are now nine doc-
tors in town, represent-
ing the two great schools
of medicine.

In 1881, also, the first
lawyer came to town,
in the person of R. N.
Chamberlin. who in the
fifteen years of his resi-
dence in this place, has
not only attained emi-
nence in the practice of
his profession, but has also been
prominent in the field of politics,
having been in 1S93 speaker of the
X. H. House of Representatives.
For four years he held the field
alone, but then had to share it with
Daniel J. Daley, who moved down
from Lancaster in 1S85.

This arrangement was very satis-
factory, as there were just sides
enough to each case to go around.
But the intrusion of Herbert I. Goss,
who also came over from Lancaster,

these, Mr. Daley was four years
county solicitor, and his partner,
Mr. Goss, who now holds the same
position, is the only Republican ever
elected to that office in Cobs county.
William H. Paine, now in practice
here, was formerlv Rockingham's
county solicitor. The judge of the
police court is George F. Rich, part-
ner of Mr. Chamberlin, who was the
first judge of that court.

It is a fact worthy of notice that
the oldest lawyer in Berlin is not yet
And every law-

> -

• .** -.1
1

■ -■ \A

. \

•' >V- / X~~ ' : el

; ■ * j

■

\ - ***** ^rj-p ■ ' V1 ■■ I

Log Jam, near Mason Street Bridge.

yer that ever settled here is here
to-day.

As has already been said, the
growth of Berlin has principally
taken place within the past few
years ; and it has also been re-
marked that that growth has been
due to two causes, — her magnificent
water power and her proximity to
the forests. Berlin's foundation,
geographically speaking, is solid
rock ; but from a commercial stand-
point she is founded on wood. Until
where he had been associated with this year every product of her mills
Hon. Jacob H. Benton, put an end has had its origin in the forests, her
to this legal L'topia. Others followed pulp and paper as well as her lum-
at greater or less intervals, and the ber ; and it is through her large cor-
town to-day has seven lawyers. Of porations that advantage has been

194

BERLIN: A TOWN OF TO-DAY.

taken of these natural facilities, and
to them that she owes whatever of

prosperity she has had. . , „

The Berlin Mills Com-
pany in 1S66 succeeded to j
the mills and privileges of
H. Winslow & Co., as has

I
I

down the Androscoggin to their mills
at Berlin. A description of their

- ---■. ')

" '.TV--.. &*£%

,»

JB£;j$ ^f^F^^SSS*^

gfe

■•■ .

Berlin Mi
Lower

s Saw-mill, Darns, and Bridge.
;nd of Berlin Mills Saw-mill. '

business alone could
easily be made to fill all
the space allotted to this
article; but perhaps
some conception of it
may be afforded by giv-
ing: a few figures. They
been stated, and from that time to the employ about the mills and yard, in
present day their business has been the summer, from 6oo to Soo men.

Berlin Mills Saw-mill and Pond.

Part of Berlin Mi. Is Mill-yard, about SSC.

continually growing and spreading
in one direction and another, until
to-day it is the largest lumber manu-
facturing concern in Xew England,
if not in all the East.

The company own vast tracts of
timber lands in Xew Hampshire and

Maine, aggregating about 300,000 large number of camps with ,a vast
acres, and cut and drive their own supply of camp outfits, tools, etc.,
logs. On their lands they cut each and they also have large farms in
year about 60,000,000 feet of lo°:s, Berlin and Milan, and on the Dia-
spruce and pine, which they drive mond and Magalloway rivers, where

In the winter, when their lumber-
ing operations are going on, they
give employment to about 1,200;
and during the spring they furnish
occupation to about 450 river-drivers.
The cutting and driving of their
lumber necessitate the owning of a
s

BERLIN: A TOWN OF TO-DAY.

195

they raise a considerable part of the
fodder used by their horses in the
woods and in the mill-yard.

Their saw-mill at Berlin is situated
at the head of the falls. It contains
six band-saws, or "band-mills," the
modern substitute for the old-fash-
ioned circular saw, which will go
through a huge log, from end to end,
about as fast as a man will walk. In
addition to these saws there are two
-shingle machines, two clapboard'
machines, and two lath machines.

The refuse from the saws passes
through sluices to the basement,
where it is sorted according to the
purposes for which it may be used.
There are no "waste products," —
•everything is used. A part goes to
the pulp-mills, another part to the
lath machines, and all of which no
other use can be made is cut up for
fuel, and used in the boiler plant or
at the paper- and pulp-mills. The
company buys no fuel whatever for
use any where about its mills.

about the mills. The product of
their lumber-mill is sold in the Amer-
ican markets, and goes also in con-
siderable quantities to South Amer-
ica and England. They also make
about 2,000 cords of birch, annually,
into spool-stock, which is sold in
Scotland. They send out daily a
train of sometimes more than thirty
cars loaded with lumber, which is
run as a special train to Portland,
and known as the " Berlin Train."

In addition to the manufacture of
lumber, they have two pulp-mills and
a two- machine paper-mill, which are
run to great advantage in connection
with their lumber business. They
also carry on a grist-mill, a machine
shop, and a large store, in which
they do an annual business of about
a quarter of a million dollars.

But the company are not to be
known only as a corporation engaged
in manufacturing and selling lumber
and pulp and paper. They have not
only been in the town but they have

■ ";'■'■■

■

— - .

Berlin Mills P*;>~r

In their mill-yard are several miles always been a part of it, and a

of track, on which three locomotives very important part. The Berlin

owned by them are kept continually Mills village, — that portion of the

busy. They also use sixty horses town lying above the " Narrows," —

196

BERLIN: A TOWN OF TO-DAY.

owes its existence entirely to them.
The company, or the individuals
comprising it, made possible the
building of the Congregational
church, and have always assisted
liberally in its support ; when there
was no public library in town, they
maintained a circulating library, and
when the town established a free
library, they turned their valuable
collection of books over to the town.
The}* maintain a free reading-room,
billiard-room, etc., for their employes,

became associated in partnership
with J. A. Bacon, a paper manufac-
turer, owning mills at Lawrence,
Mass. They continued in partner-
ship until 1S93, when a corporation
was formed under the name of the
Berlin Falls Fibre Co. P'or many
years Mr. Furbish resided in Berlin
and was the active manager of the
mills, and his son, \V. H. Furbish,
is now the superintendent.

The company manufacture pulp by
a chemical process, known as the

1 ■ 5

-- - :

■;

■

S£i:^,..-Afcr,. .:^i^i_JIi^^^^ss^i

Burgess Sulphite Fibre Co , East SiJ«=.

and in countless ways have contrib-
uted towards raising the standard of
living in the town.

The officers of the company are
W. W. Brown, president; J. \V.
Parker, vice-president ; Thomas Ed-
wards, treasurer; and H. J. Brown,
assistant treasurer and general super-
intendent of mills.

The Forest Fibre Company built
its first mill in 1S77, and the second
in 1880. Henry H. Furbish was the
originator of the company, and has
always had a prominent part in the
direction of its n flairs. He earlv

"soda process." the principal ingre-
dients used being soda-ash and lime,
from which a liquor is made in which
the wood, — poplar is used in this pro-
cess. — is "cooked" in huge vats,
until the acids and resinous sub-
stances are freed from the wood,
leaving almost pure cellulose. This
is rolled into sheets by a process like
that used in manufacturing ground
pulp, and is shipped off to be used
in making paper. The product of
this mill goes mainly into such
grades of paper as are used in mag-
azines, and fairly good book paper v

BERLIN: A TOWN OF TO-DAY.

197

for which purposes ground pulp,
from its lack of fibre, cannot be
used. The daily capacity of the
mill is about forty tons of pulp,
using eighty cords of poplar.

The Burgess Sulphite Fibre Co.
are situated 011 the east side of the
river, directly across from the Berlin
Falls Fibre Co. They manufacture
pulp by a chemical process some-
what resembling the soda process in
its general features, though differing
greatly in detail. Spruce is used in-
stead of poplar, and the raw mate-
rials from which the liquor is made
are lime and sulphur. The lime, of
which about five carloads are used
weekly, is brought from the West,
while the sulphur is imported from
Japan and Sicily. The wood used is
bought in various places : at present
the mill is receiving about forty car-
loads of logs each day from Canada,
the lack of snow having greatly hin-
dered lumbering operations in Coos
county this winter.

The mill is producing daily from
seventy-five to eighty tons of pulp,
and additions are now in process of
construction which will increase the
output to one hundred tons. It is
now the largest mill of its kind in
America, and when the addition now
under way is completed, will be the
largest 111 the world. The freight
bills of the company on out-going
freight amount to over Sioo,ooo an-
nually, of which, it is interesting to
note, about one half is paid on the
Androscoggin water which is con-
tained in the pulp. Fifty thousand
dollars a year is a good deal to pay
for freight on water that nobody has
any use for, but the proportion of
water to solid matter is even larger
in other kinds of pulp.

A noticeable feature about the
Burgess mills is the originality shown
in both process and mechanical ap-
pliances. The use of labor is dis-
pensed with wherever possible. The
wood is unloaded from the cars on an
automatic conveyer which takes it
directlv to the tank, — as laroe as a
small pond, — in which it is soaked.
From the tank it is taken out and
the bark removed on revolving
knives. It then goes, by way of
another conveyer, to the machine in
which it is cut up into chips. These
chips, in turn, are automatically car-
ried to a sifter, in which the sawdust
and the large pieces are sorted out
from those which are of the right
size, the former being carried to the
boiler-room for use as fuel, while the
others are taken up to the top of the
mill and dumped into the digesters, —
the great vats in which the chips are
cooked. There are six of these di-
gesters, each fourteen feet in diam-
eter and thirty-five feet high : when
the mill was built, in 1S93, they were
the largest in the world. The sub-
stance with which they are lined is
the invention of T. P. Burgess, the
general manager of the mill, with
whom certain important features of
the process of manufacture are origi-
nal, as are many of the labor-saving
contrivances.

The officers of the company are
\V. W. Brown, president; Aretas
Blood, vice-president ; Theodore P.
Burgess, treasurer and general man-
ager : Frank P. Carpenter, Herbert
J. Brown, and Orton B. Brown,
directors ; and George E. Burgess,
superintendent. The companv em-
ploy a large office force, and are now
building what are intended to be the
finest mill offices in the state.

i 9 8

BE RUN: A TOWN OF TO-DAY.

r -i

"Zz'ZZl

(iUn Mill No. I.

The Glen Manufacturing Company
came to Berlin in 1885, and built
on the original Berlin Falls a mill,
which the town voted to exempt fro in
taxation for ten years. It was cer-
tainly the best investment that the
town ever made. The company
steadily and rapidly increased its
plant, until to-day they own six
large mills and employ in them
about four hundred men, with a
weekly pay roll of about ^4.500.

Their first paper machine was set
running in the spring of 1886, and
was named after Col. C. II. Taylor.
of the Boston Globe. In 18S7 they
made an addition to their original
mill, giving them three paper ma-
chines. In the same year they
bought a mill which had been oper-
ated for a short time by the White
Mountain Pulp and Paper Co., and
which they afterwards incorporated
with their Mill Xo. 5. Xo. 3 was
built in 1889; in 1890 one ma-
chine was added to Xo. 1 ; in 1891
Xo. 4 was built ; in 1892, Xo. 5 ; and
Xo. 6, their sulphite pulp mill, in

1893.

They now have a complete plant,
manufacturing everything that goes

into their paper, the sul-
phite pulp taking the
place of the rags, of which
it was formerly necessary
to use a small quantity in
order to give the paper
■ the requisite toughness.
They now manufacture
Si daily thirty-five tons of sul-
I] phite pulp and eighty tons
I of ground-wood pulp, from
which they make sixty-five

_, zzsM tons of paper at Berlin,

while the rest is shipped
to their mills at Haverhill,
Mass., where it is made into fifty
tons of paper. They grind up an-
nually into pulp about 30,000,000
feet of spruce logs. They own
about 100,000 acres of timber lands,

% -J^

,:-v

Fa's at Glen Mill No. '. The original 8erlin Fails.

and contract for the cutting of their
timber. Their facilities for obtain-
ing their raw material are unequalled
by any other large paper-mills in the
countrv, and for this reason they are

BERLIN

A TOWN OF TO-DAY.

199

able to manufacture at an advantage
over those less favorably situated.

They have three dams, by which
they have developed about 12,000
horse-power. They have thirty-six
pulp grinders and five paper raa-

■ ■ ' .

^HHJL ' I

- r ~- -

Glen Mills Nos. 4 and 6.

chines. The process of manufacture
in its first steps resembles the sul-
phite process, up to the point at
which in the latter the wood was
cut into chips. In the mechanical
process, the blocks of wood, from
which the bark has been
removed, ?re ground up,
under a heavy water pres-
sure, on large grinders, —
stones like ordinary grind-
stones, but about five feet
ill diameter and two feet
in thickness. The pulp \
then undergoes various
processes by which a con-
siderable part of the water
is removed, and it is rolled \£jfi-*ffijk
out into thick sheets for

transportation. The pulp, soaked in
water and mixed with a little sulphite
pulp, is then passed through the pa-
per machine, a great mass of machin-
ery in which the .moist pulp, passing
over felts and screens and between
warm cylinders and over various ap-
pliances for drying out the water,
finally comes out at the other end
in the form of a wide sheet of pure
white paper, — ten feet wide on the
largest machine in the Glen mills,—
and is wound up in a great roll ready
for the printing press, at the rate of
about three hundred feet a minute.
The Glen's paper machines turn out
over 60,000 square feet of newspaper
every- minute, and run day and night
continuously, — twenty-four hours in
the day and seven days in the week.
In a little over two months they
make enough paper to encircle the
earth around the equator with a belt
eight feet wide.

They have had continuous con-
tracts with the Boston Globe and the
New York Tribune ever since their
first mill in Berlin was built, and
their paper is used in newspaper
offices from Maine to Texas, and
even in the British Isles.

The officers of this company are
John L. Hobson, of Haverhill, Mass.,

* r* • -1 P i ■■ ■

- -'- • ^

200

BERLIN: A TOWN OF TO-DAY.

^■-'%

Train of Logs for the G!en Manufacturing Co.

president; II . M. Knowles, of Bos-
ton, treasurer; and I. B. Hosiord,
of Haverhill, general

These four large corpo-
rations have developed,
by their dams on the
Androscoggin, not far
from 30,000 horse power;
few if any of the privi-
leges in use arc developed
to their fullest capacity,
and there are a consider-
able number of magnifi-

steam. A. X. Gilbert is
the treasurer and general
manager.

The Builders' Supply
Company also own a well-
appointed mill in which
are manufactured all kinds
of house-finishing material,
doors, sashes, hardwood-
flooring-, etc. The power
for this mill is furnished
from the Dead River privi-
lege, which also operates a small
grist-mill.

Ezra M. Cross, after being for some

■t4
~-4

vet en-

Grinders in Piu p Department, G ! en Mill No. I.

cent powers a:
tirely unused.

In addition to the four
large companies there
are a number of small mannfactur- time im business on Mechanic street,
ing concerns, almost all of which has, during the past year, moved down
make some form of wood product, below th;e Glen Mill Xo. 1, where he
Of these the largest is the Berlin has bui.'It two large and convenient
Manufacturing Company, whose mill buildings in which he carries on his
would be considered a large plant foundry and machine-shop business.
ill almost any other place in Xew He niakies castings in all the common

Hampshire than Berlin. They own
a valuable site, nearly opposite the
Grand Trunk station, and have an
extremely well equipped and conven-
ient mill, in which thev manufacture

metals, and does a general jobbing
business. He employs about twenty
men, aT.l necessarily skilled workmen
and earning good wages.

The criticism has often been made

spruce, pine, and hard-wood lumber that the mills of Berlin gave employ-
of all descriptions, and do a general ment practically to none but able-
jobbing and house -finishing busi- bodied «nen, and that no opportunity
ness. was given for the women and younger
The power is furnished entirely by people of the laboring families to add

BERLIN

1 TOWN OF TO-DAY.

20 r

to the family resources as can else-
where be done, where the forms of
labor are more varied. This diffi-
culty, it is believed, has been in large
measure obviated by the erection of
the Berlin Shoe Factory.

The money for this building was
paid for in part by popular subscrip-
tion, and in part by the use of the
credit of the town. The factory has
been leased to Chick Bros, of Haver-
hill, Mass., one of the largest shoe
companies in New England, on a
guaranty that they will do a certain
amount of business here for a fixed
term of years. The shop is situated
near the Berlin Manufacturing Co.,
beside the Grand Trunk tracks. It
is 200 by 50 feet on the ground, and
five stories above the basement, with
a large tower in front and in the rear
a brick power-house. It is built on
the best principles of first-class mill
construction, equipped with stand-
pipes and an automatic sprinkler sys-
tem, and lighted throughout by elec-
tricity furnished by its own dynamo.
It will accommodate about 1 ,000 em-
ployes, and it is thought that before

f—

- 1

- ■

\ ' " -

lis

. ■

I ^c ■■ ■ ■■-•-'■ "'' ' - -">-

Berlir. Sr.oe Factory.

Berlin Manufacturing Company's Mill,

summer it will be running to very
nearly its full capacity.

Shoe-shops are generally consid-
ered rather risky ventures for small
towns, but Berlin's people feel that
this institution bids fair to be a per-
manency. Their confidence is based
not only on the character and busi-
ness standing of the lessees, but also on
the fact that, strange as it may seem,
Berlin offers peculiar advantages for
the transaction of this particular bus-
iness. Help of the kind wanted is
abundant, and anxious for an oppor-
tunity to work. Fuel is cheap, wood
being abundant, and coal costing less
in Berlin than in Concord. And the
freight rates
from Berlin to
the West are
lower than from
Haverhill, and
it is from the
West that Chick
Brothers obtain
the greater part
of their raw ma-
terial, and to the
West they ship
much of their
finished product.
So much for
the mills of Ber-
lin ; to them the

-V-Vl

%'JE

;.V £;■

^5f|

■ ■«^j |4 If ;

m ■;'■>■-■■% *Md

I •■$

m&T it

• : '7 f

BERLIN: A TOWN OF TO-DAY.

tcrwn is mainly indebted for what
she is. I wish now to devote a
short space to a consideration of
what she is.

According to the census of 1890,
Berlin had about 3,500 inhabitants;
by a census taken last spring by the
selectmen, this number had swelled
to nearly 6,000, so that she is now
the largest town in New Hampshire.

Her streets and stores and many of
her houses, are lighted by electricity,
furnished by the Berlin Electric Light
Company, whose plant is situated in
the mills of the Berlin Falls Fibre
Company. The president of the cgm-
pany is \V. H. Furbish, and H. H.
Furbish is treasurer and general man-
ager. . The electric light company is
an old institution, and Berlin was one
of the first places in the state to in-
troduce electricity. Gas has never
been used here for illuminating pur-
poses, and it is hardly probable that
it will ever be introduced.

Water is furnished by several com-
panies, of which the largest is the
Berlin Aqueduct Company, whose
system was put in in 1S92 at a very
heavy expense. The soil of the
town, if I may so express myself, is
solid rock, and more than thirty tons
of dynamite were used in blasting out
the trenches for the pipes. The main
supply is a reservoir on Bean brook
in the hills about a mile east of the
Androscoggin, and a pumping station
above Berlin Mills furnishes an aux-
iliary supply of filtered rivei water.
This company furnishes about 900
families with water, and also supplies
the town hydrants, of which there are
now forty-six, as well as the auto-
matic sprinkler systems with which
all the mills are equipped.

The Green Aqueduct Company sup-

plies excellent water to a considerable
number of families in the centre of
the town, while the Cold Spring
Water Company performs the same
service for a number of houses 011 the
east side of the river.

Protection against fire is furnished
by three very efficient hose compa-
nies, the high pressure of the aque-
duct company making the posses-
sion of steamers unnecessary. There
lias been no serious fire in town since
the introduction of the water service.
The Glen Manufacturing Co. and the
Berlin Mills have each a fire engine
of their own, with a complete fire-
fighting equipment and a thoroughly
drilled fire department, and the other
mills are supplied with hydrants con-
nected with the aqueduct company's
system.

At the same time when the water-
works were. put in, a complete sewer
system was constructed by the town.
The resulting gain in the general
health of the community has been
very marked.

The town is well supplied with
social and fraternal organizations,
among them being a lodge of Free
Masons, Odd Fellows, Knights of
Pytiaias, Independent Order of For-
esters, Catholic Order of Foresters,
Society of St. John the Baptist, and
Brotherhood of Paper-makers. The
old name of the town is retained in
the Maynesboro' club, which has
convenient rooms in the National
Ban.k block, equipped with billiard
and pool tables, and furnished with
a good selection of newspapers and
periodicals. The club is a very im-
portant factor in the social life of
the town. In addition to the above,
there are several whist clubs, a ladies'
literarv club, and a snowshoe club,

204

BERLIN: A TOWN OF TO-DA)

with headquarters at the old Benja-
min Thompson place.

There are two opera houses in Ber-
lin — the Whitney opera house, on
Mechanic street, and the Clement
opera house, in the Clement block.
The latter is a handsome hall with
a seating capacity of nearly 1,500,
and is one of the largest and best
appointed opera houses north of Bos-
ton. Berlin has two out-door ice-
rinks, and in the summer she sup-
ports a ball nine which boasts of
being the champions of the North
country. She is at the gateway to
one of the finest hunting and fishing
grounds in the East, and deer, par-
tridge and rabbits, and trout and
pickerel, abound even within the lim-
its of the town. Every man in this
part of the country is a fisherman,
and in the summer there is a con-
tinual stream of fishing parties mak-
ing for their favorite camping spots
"up river."

The town has an excellent public
library, founded in 1893, and very
largely reenforced by the recent gift
of the entire Berlin Mills library.
The library has rooms in Clement's
block, where are also the police court
and town offices.

The banks of the town are a very
important factor in its progress.
There are two, the Berlin Savings
Bank and Trust Company, of which
A. M. Stahl is president and J. S.
Phipps. treasurer, and the Berlin Na-
tional Bank, of which A. R. Evans
is president and A. II . Eastman,
cashier. Both banks have been very
conservatively managed, and ex-
tremely successful. It was reported
that ^175 a share was recently re-
fused for stock of the savings bank,
while the national bank boasts that

it has never lost a dollar on a note.
A description of Berlin would be
wofully incomplete that did not make
some mention of the natural beauties
of the surrounding country. The
town lies in a valley, hemmed in on
all sides by mountains, with three
outlets — up the Androscoggin, down
the same river, and up the Dead
River valley to the height of land
where are the headwaters of the
Upper Amnionoosiic.

From the Heights, as the upper
part of the town is called, is obtained
a fine view of Mts. Washington, Mad-
ison, and Adams, the Tiptop House
being in plain sight. A magnificent
view is obtained from the summit of
Mt. Forist, while the outlook from
Cate's hill, back of the town, can
hardly be surpassed anywhere in the
White Mountain region. Starr King
speaks of the view of the mountains
from near the Thompson farm as
showing better the characteristics of
the three great mountains than any
view elsewhere obtainable.

The Berlin falls, before the Glen
mills were built, were one of the
features of the scenery of this region,
and are spoken of in terms of the
highest admiration by Starr King.
The Alpine cascade is a cataract of
great beauty, and is visited in the
summer months by a great number
of sight-seers.

To tell of all the features of Ber-
lin's scenery, and to describe every-
thing worthy of note in her various
departments of activity, would be an
almost interminable task. All that
Berlin asks is that those who doubt
what is said of her should come and
see for themselves. She has good
hotels and comfortable homes, and
her latch-string is always out.

ELBRIDGE A. TOWLE.
By L. A". H. Lane.

NEW HAMPSHIRE has pro-
duced its full quota of men and
women who have won distinc-
tion and renown in the various walks
and callings of life to which their
incli? ations and talents have directed
then , and their achievements have
entailed honor to
their memory and r
likewise added
luster to the
proud history of
the state. If the
vocation of rail-
road conductor is
regarded as less
brilliant than that
to be obtained in
the world of let-
ters and science
it is none the less
honorable, and as
exemplified in the
career of the sub-
ject of this brief
sketch is such as
to appeal to the
pride of every cit-
izen of the commonwealth that gave
him birth.

Elbridge A. Towle, on whose life
the curtain was drawn January 31,
last, was one of the oldest in point of
service, and one of the most widely
and favorably known railroad con-
ductors in the United States. He
was born in Hampton in the little
toll-house on the turnpike, where his

)

1 '

•

• -:<

Elbridge A. Towle

father was toll-gatherer for sixteen
years.

He first saw the light of day Jan-
uary 29, 1S23, and was one of eight
children of Caleb and Sarah Towle.
When Elbridge was six years of age
his father moved with his family to
the adjoining
town of Hampton
Falls, and en-
gaged at farming
upon the place
now owned and
occupied by an-
other of his
sons, Emmons
B. Towle. This
place is near the
common, where
stands the Gov-
ernor Ware mon-
ument, and iu
close proximity
to the house in
which the poet
Whittier died.

His education
was obtained in
the public schools with a brief course
at Hampton academy. He was then
employed by the stage company for
a short time substituting for his
brother, the regular driver. On
March 28, 1847, he entered the ser-
vice of the Eastern railroad as a
brakeman on the train then run by
Jeremiah Prescott, who afterwards
became superintendent of the road.

206

ELBRIDGE A. TOWLE,

Mr. Towle was early made a con-
ductor and given a Portland train
running out of Hast Boston. Later,
when the Eastern road entered the
city proper, he ran the first train
from the Causeway street station.
He also ran the first train to North
Conway. With the exception of four
years that he ran through to Augusta,
his regular run was from Boston to
Portland. He covered the distance
of 10S miles six days e T .-ery week,
and two days of each week he "doub-
led the road," making in round num-
bers 900 miles every week, 46,800
miles every year. In fort}' years he
travelled 1,872,000 miles, or a dis-
tance that would have taken him
around the world about seventy-five
times.

On every trip over the road he
passed within sight of the house in
which he was born. It is a most
remarkable fact that in his long ser-
vice no accident ever occurred to his
train resulting in the loss of life of a
single passenger. Wonderful indeed
were the changes and improvements
in railroads, their equipment and
management, that he witnessed.
When he began railroading the larg-
est cars accommodated forty-eight
passengers, now their capacity t is
seventy-five. Then the heaviest en-
gines weighed thirteen tons, now
they weigh one hundred tons.

Mr. Towle served under the ad-
ministration of fourteen presidents
of the road, and at the time of his
death he was in term of service the
oldest employe of the great Boston &
Maine system. He was acquainted
with, and the warm personal friend
of, many of the famous men of Xew
England, including Daniel Webster,
Governor Woodbury, Franklin Pierce,

Hannibal Hamlin, William Pitt Fes-
senden, and James G. Blaine.

When Hannibal Hamlin made the
trip to Washington to assume the
vice-presidency of the United States,
he made two noted speeches, one at
Salem, the other at Newburyport,
from the rear end of Conductor
Towle's train. James G. Blaine on
his trips between Washington and
Augusta always made it a point to
ride on Mr. Towle's train, and on
his last journey to the Capitol, ac-
companied by a few intimate friends,
his private, car was carefully guarded
against intruders and orders sdven to
admit 210 one, but the distinguished
statesman sent for Mr. Towle, ac-
corded him the heartiest of greet-
ings, and manifested his interest in
the continued welfare of the vener-
able conductor.

During the almost complete half
century of his railroad life how
varied must have been his experi-
ence ! What scenes he must have
witnessed while looking after the
safety and comfort of the millions of
travellers entrusted to his care. Par-
ties journeying on pleasure bent,
some weighed with the responsibili-
ties of business, others on missions
of sadness bowed with grief, — all re-
ceiving sympathy from the great
heart of this noble man, who with
health ;±?> rugged, honor as impreg-
nable, and a purpose of right as fixed
as the granite hills of his native state,
pursued his course admired and
loved by countless numbers of his
fellowmen.

He was faithful to the end. Up to
and including the day of his death
he took his train through on time,
and as usual delivered his charge
safelv at the end of the route, retired

LEGEND OF JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE.

to the privacy of his home in Charles-
town, and sorrowing over the loss of
his beloved companion whose- death
had occurred but a few days pre-
vious, from the presence of his chil-
dren, his spirit was wafted to rejoin
her's in that realm that knows no
sorrow.

The life of Elbridge A. Towle was
an example to follow, the virtues that
he possessed are worthy the attain-
ment of those who seek to be perfect
men and women, and the monument
best fitting to perpetuate his memory
was carved by himself, more endur-
ing than any that posterity can rear.

AX EVENING PRAYER.

By Harrie Sheridan Baketel, M. D.

O God, I pray, help me alway

Thy will to do.
Teach me to -faithful be, full of humility,

And ever true.

THE LEGEND OF JOHX LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE,

[CONTINUE D-]

By E. P. Tenney.
CHAPTER XVI.

BESIDES the visit of John Levin
to Manchester upon that Sun-
day, the eighteenth day of July,
Raymond Foote was there. Had he
not been so frank hearted and true as
to inspire confidence in every one
whom he met, it is not likely that
the jailor Hodgman would have ac-
cepted the prisoner's generous
bribe, — and . given him a disguise,
and a horse, and twenty-four hours
vacation, from midnight to midnight
of July the eighteenth. The dis-
guise was so perfect that even his
friend, Dr. Jay, did not know him,
when Raymond seated himself by
his side in the meeting-house that
since his ride in the

small hours made him ^ sleep and
breathe heavily in unison with others
all through the sermon, he was
looked upon by the awakening con-
gregation as some new neighbor who
had moved into town while they were
asleep, or a fisherman accidentally
present, so that no one spoke to him.
Observing the boating party he
strolled along shore, just in season
to be no unwilling observant of the
Chubb Creek picnic, and listener in
the thickets at hand. And he went
to Glasse Head, after he knew that
Mary was alone, and asked for
lunch, — a request not unfrequent
from coastwise travellers by water or
land.

2o8 LEGEND OF JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE.

But he could not loug disguise his
voice ; and when he removed his
full-beard mask, he received hearty
welcome and promise of concealment
during his brief stay.

" I have not been able, Mary, to
get your voice out of my ears for
one waking or dreaming hour since
you came to the jail with the birds/'

Mary's face became suddenly pale :
"I am glad, Raymond, if it was
pleasing to you ; but it was unwise
in me, if not imprudent. Perhaps I
ought, by virtue of our very long
friendship, to have told you that I
had engaged myself to John Levin ;
so that it was not very proper for me
to go as I did, even to you. But my
heart had misgivings, fearing that it
was Mr. Levin himself who caused
your arrest. — concerning which I
went to warn you."

Mary had dropped her eyes in say-
ing this. When she looked up, Ray-
mond was as pale as her mother's
ghost.

11 I have lost my errand then, if
that be so. Nor can I now even tell
you what .it is. It would not be fan-
between me and John Levin, if I
were to say what I came for. But.
Mary," he said, taking her hand, '"if
you have engaged to marry, let it
never fail by your fault ; if it fails by
his fault, no matter how many years
hence, will you tell me ? And will
you meantime come to me, if I can
serve you ? Do you not remember
that you called me your brother
when you were two years old ? "

Mary was long silent. And Ray-
mond went to the window to look out
upon the light surf tossing upon the
Ram islands or over sunken ledges.
Mary after some time came to the
window, and took Raymond's hands,

saying : " My heart trusts you, Ray-
mond ; and I would quickly answer
your triplet of questions, Yes, Yes,
Yes. — -but after what I have told you
about my relations to John Levin, it
is not considerate even if kind in you
to ask me to answer such questions,
under the present circumstances. If
circumstances change, it will be
proper for you to ask then." Then
Mary ceased to speak, and she looked
steadfastly into the eyes of a friend
whom she trusted. "I love you,
Raymond, as a very dear friend.
More I cannot say. Xor can I seaL
what I have said, or allow you to do
so, — notwithstanding your lips are
like cherries. Now escape while you
can, tor Martha and the doctor are
coming to an early tea Good bve.
God be with you."

Raymond's road back to the jail
seemed very long ; and he was not so
light hearted as he had hoped to have
been, still there was a heart prompt-
ing wliich said, — 'Raymond Foote,
this is the best day's work you ever
did in your life, but you were a great
fool that you did not do it before you
introduced Mary Glasse to John
Levin."

CHAPTER XVII.

Upon that same Sunday, Martha
and the doctor stayed a little at the
Chubb Creek picnic ground after
John Levin's departure, , and after
Mary had walked up the shore
toward Glasse Head ; the husband
at least loitering with an eye to bus-
iness.

" I half believe," said Martha,
" that you were in league with your
friend. Levin, in coming here to
select a building spot on Sunday.
You know that I should not have

LEGEND OF JOHN LEI 'IN AND MARY GLASSE

rex)

come upon such an errand to-day.
But we are perfectly at one in the
matter; for you would, I am sure,
never have asked me to come, so that
I happily lay it all to John Levin."

' ' John is not handy with a boat,
you know, my adorable one. It's
better landing here than at Black
cove, in such water as we have
to-day."

Then they sat upon the rocks near
where the}- intended to build.

" It will be no slander, Robert, if I
speak ill of John Levin, for it would
not be behind his back. His face is
always haunting me, and I shrink
from it, since I know that he loves
Mary."

" Let us, then, not speak of it."

"I would, indeed, much rather
treat him as the dead, and say noth-
ing ill of him."

"I admit that his character is less
transparent than that of our mess-
mate Foote, who never made a plot,
•or for a moment concealed the
thought uppermost in his mind.
He has not even the slightest talent
for duplicity ; but then, you know,
lie is not as brilliant as John Levin."

" Fiddlestick ! "

u By brilliancy, I mean, in a busi-
ness way, that John Levin is always
keenly alive, wide awake, and mak-
ing the sharpest turns to fulfil some
purpose he has in view. He lives on
a large scale. He is not so petty as
to lie for a shilling, but he will tell
twenty for a pound. In a bargain
he would cinch his bosom friend, if
he had one. But then he intends to
make money ; and if others have less
wit, let them look to it. He was
never born to be his brother's keeper.
He 's just the man to develop the
resources of a new countrv."

" And still he is your friend."
"He is not my friend; he is my
patient. I amuse him, and dose his
mother; John amuses me, and gives
me surprising fees. So large, indeed,
that I imagine he expects to have
a use for me some day. Perhaps,
however, it is because I amuse him
so much; then, we've known each
other for twenty years."

"Ah, that 's it. I did not know."
The doctor paused a moment, then
added: "My first experience,
Martha, as a ship's doctor, was with.
a master who trafficked in human
lives ; and once, before I knew it, I
found myself upon an English ship
plundering Spaniards. One expects,
however, to meet all kinds of people
.in our British sea-faring life. But
Martha, my adorable one, I am glad
to be on shore with you."

With due formality and affecting
solemnity, upon this site which the
doctor had selected for their new
house, he kissed his wife ; and then
they walked toward Glasse Head,
the husband somewhat ponderously
leading the way.

CHAPTER XVIII.

The next da}' John Levin pre-
sented one of John Calvin's snuff-
boxes, which he had been fortunate
enough to pick up at a junk shop
in Geneva, to the Reverend Calvin
Hammersmith, D. D.,duly inscribed,
"July 19th, from a friend and ad-
mirer." And John Levin sold to
Elder Perkins an immense quantity
of snuff, of the same brand he said
that John Knox used in order to
keep his congregation awake ; so
that, the next Sunday, the pious
Levin found the Hammersmith audi-
tors as alert and attentive as if

LEGEND OF JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE.

they had suspected their minister of
heresy.

John Levin personally never took
snuff, nor did Mary Glasse; never-
theless, the}' managed to keep awake
that Sunday afternoon. Xor had
Mary, before, ever met a person
so sincerely desirous of religious illu-
mination as the pious pagan, John
Levin. But what he said was so
intermingled with grave doubts as to
the truth of Christian it}', and uncer-
tainty in regard to the personality of
the First Cause, that the girl puz-
zled all the week to know whether
her lover was an angel of light or
whether he wore the character as a
disguise.

The Sunday following, after Elder
Perkins and his pastor had inter-
viewed Mr. Levin, with reference to
making him a deacon, Mary satisfied
herself that, after all said and done,
her devoted friend was something
more than a mere rhetorician or play-
wright at things religious.

"I cannot conceal from you, Mr.
Levin, that to me the principal ques-
tion is, whether or not you and I are
upon the same religious plane or
likely ever to be so. I am not
very devout, and I am nut learned
but my relation to the unseen is so
real, that, even if it occupies rela-
tively little of my time or thought, I
cannot imagine one to be well bal-
anced, who is off his base, as we say,
in his religious theory or practice."

This would have seemed dull to
John Levin, if the receiver of his
snuffbox had said it, but he had
already found that in Mary, which
led him at least to know where she
stood morally, and to know it more
exactly than he knew his own where-
abouts as to the claims even of nat-

ural religion. This positive element
in the character of the only person
who had ever awakened him to a
sense of the emptiness of a life with
no unselfish love in it, had at least
won Mr. Levin's respect, and set him
to more questioning than common as
to Iiis own relation to Mind in the
universe, and to possible theories of
right and wrong; and he had reached
the conclusion, not unimportant, that
the presence of Mary Glasse rein-
forced that which was best in his
nature, so that her company was
morally wholesome, — and that it was-
a good' use of Sunday afternoons to
visit Glasse Head.

One effect of this conclusion was to
lead h£m to unwonted sincerity. It
embarrassed him greatly to express-
es real thoughts and feelings, nor
was it easy for him to persuade Mary
that he truly did so. Fascinated as
she wais with his manly beauty, intel-
lectual brilliancy, and grasp of com-
plicated affairs; and bound to him
as she was by a feeling of physical
and spiritual kinship, entirely inex-
plicable- to this girl not out of her
teens, a feeling that had grown upon
her ever since she had received him
from the Atlantic, — she still looked
upon him as a perfect master in the
arts of deception, of astounding men-
dacity, and of life questionable as to
his personal habits. How she could
cling to him she did not know, but
she was conscious of being fastened
to him fey some secret power as hard
to resist as gravitation. But if she
must be near him, must often see
him, must love him at least duti-
fully, if not with a wife's all-absorb-
ing love, — still she was not bound to
believe in him. But upon this first
day of August she came to believe

A WISH.

that John Levin was not absolutely
without sincerity.

It was on his part a great step to
take, — to confess himself a pretender
and a sham ; to confess it to a. girl
half his age ; to tell her, what was
true, that she had appeared to him
like a revelation, that in her he had
something to live for, that for the
first time in his life he felt the kin-
dlings of an unselfish devotion ;
and that his new li f _ of love had
made him conscious of much that
was evil in his nature — if not evil
postively yet relatively, — evil as com-
pared with an ideal life, his ideal —
the life of Mary Glasse.

With strange heart-throbs the girl
heard the impassioned story. Not a
word was now said about marriage,
or fixing that day of which she could
not think without terror. And now
for the first time since her engage-
ment she felt that she had not been
too hasty, and she understood some-
thing of the eternal ground of that
divine ordaining which had brought
her and John Levin together. And
there glowed in her heart fresh fires
of affection for this strange man.

44 I have had a rough life, Mary,"
he said, standing upon the threshold,
44 1 am selfish, and hard, and almost
destitute of what you would call
sense of duty. I was brought up
so, and I have bettered my training.
You will have a hard time if you are
sent now to become the guardian

angel of my life. To have made
your task easy you really ought to
have begun when I was a child, or
away back before my mother's an-
cestors began their wild, adven-
turous, unscrupulous living. I need
your life, Mary. It is a great com-
fort to me to become conscious
for the first time in my life, of
a slight attempt at self contending.
I never did it before. I do it for
your sake ; for my own, that I may
be more worthy of you. It is a great
comfort to me to be permitted to see
you ; although it cannot be very satis-
factory to you, that is, if you look for
such purity of life and character as
alone ought to cross your threshold.
But I am what I am.

4 * It is a great triumph on your
part, Mary," he added, smiling and
kissing her good bye, "that you
have made me willing to humble my
egotism to tell you, even by a cau-
tious intimation, what a scamp I am;
how great a scamp, you will, I trust,
never know or believe. The wild
beast within me falls at your feet.
Thank God that you do not know
how low down in the scale the crea-
ture is. But, Mary, I love you, and
I depend upon you to do your best to
help me to get the upper hand of that
which is unworthy in my manhood."

Mar>' stood long upon the rocks,
watching John Levin's boat, which
finally disappeared in the darkness.

[ 7 o be continued.}

A WISH.
By //. H. Hanson.
May your joys, as the heavens that circle above,

As boundless and infinite be,
And like as its stars are removed from the earth
May sorrow be distant from thee.

<c^

Conducted by Fred Go-whig State Superintendent of Public Instruction,

SUPERVISION OF PUBLIC SCHOOLS.
By Hon. f. IV. Dickinson, ex-secretary of Massachusetts State Hoard of Education

A public school s\*stem in a demo-
cratic state requires for its existence
a community of persons acting to-
gether in establishing, supporting,
controlling, and teaching the schools,
and in supplying them with living
materials to be trained into a virtu-^
ous, intelligent, and homogeneous
people.

Where a number or a community
of persons may be engaged in accom-
plishing a common end, unity of
action is possible only by organizing
all under the executive power of a
representative mind, — this is under-
stood in the management of all busi-
ness affairs, and of all private institu-
tions.

It may be in accordance with the
will of the people that public com-
mon schools should be established
and supported ; but they must be
brought into existence, and their
character and conduct determined by
the direct agency of the representa-
tives of the people. The people.

therefore, must elect public officers
to represent them in organizing the
schools, and in supervising the ad-
ministration of their work.

In the New England States the
town is the smallest political unit,
and is quite independent in some
phases of its existence, and yet the
public schools of the towns are state
institutions. The state, through its
representatives, determines what shall
be the general character of the
schools, and then it requires the
towns to conform to its will in their
management.

In the colonial days of Massachu-
setts the welfare of the public schools
was committed to the care of the
selectmen of the towns, or as they
were called, the chosen men for man-
aging the prudentials. These persons
were always assisted by the clergymen
of the parishes, who often performed
the duties of school superintendents.
As the people became better judges
of what constitutes srood teaching,

1 Read before the Nashua Teachers' Club, January 27, 1S95.

EDUCA TIONAL DEPARTMENT.

213

laws were passed requiring more care
and intelligence in the selection of
teachers.

In iyor the general court ordered
every grammar master to secure the
approval of the minister of the town,
and of the ministers of the two adja-
cent towns, or any two of them, by a
certificate under their hands. In
1789 the towns were authorized to
divide their territory into districts,
and then it was ordered that the min-
isters of the gospel, and the select-
men, or other such persons chosen
for that purpose, shall use their influ-
ence in securing the regular attend-
ance of the children upon the schools,
and that once in even- six months at
least, and as much oftener as they
should deem necessary, visit and in-
spect the schools, and inquire into
the regulations and discipline thereof,
and the proficiency of the scholars
therein, giving reasonable notice of
the time of their visitation.

It appears that the people were
aware of the importance of intelligent
supervision of their schools, for the
ministers, who were the educated
men of the town, were always asso-
ciated with the selectmen, that com-
petent persons might be provided for
the examination of teachers and for
the inspection of their schools.

In 1827 the legislature enacted a
law requiring each town in the com-
monwealth to choose at its annual
meeting, a school committee, who
should have general charge and
supervision of the public schools.

The act specified the duties of the
committees. They were to require
full and satisfactory evidence of the
good moral character of all instruc-
tors employed in the town, and they
were to satisfy themselves by a per-

sonal examination (or otherwise) of
their scholarship and of their ability
to govern.

The committees selected by the
towns were generally good men, and
faithful, but they knew little of the
philosophy of education, or of the
true method of teaching. They sup-
posed the teacher's duty was done, if
he assigned lessons from the text-
books and heard recitations of the
words that had been committed to
memory, and at the same time kept
the children in what was called good
order.

But as time passed on and more
intelligent notions of the true prov-
ince of the public school began to
prevail, thoughtful men became dis-
satisfied with the limited good accom-
plished by untrained teachers teach-
ing imperfect courses of instruction,
in school-houses unfit for use, and
entire!}' wanting in the proper means
of teaching and study, while there
was no organization existing, having
authority or knowledge enough to
make changes for the better.

In 1854 the legislature authorized
the cities by ordinance and the towns
by vote to require the school com-
mittees to choose a superintendent of
schools. Under this act ninety cities
and large towns have since availed
themselves of its provisions. But the
smaller and less wealthy towns were
unable to endure the expense of em-
ploying such an agency. So in 1870
a law was passed allowing the towns
to unite in districts for the support
and employment of school superin-
tendents.

Under this law seventeen towns
were formed -into superintendent dis-
tricts. Still a very large number of
towns having a small amount of tax-

214

EDUCA TIQNAL DEPARTMENT.

able properly and in many cases a
constantly decreasing population,
were unwilling as well as unable to
form into districts under the simple
permissive law of 1S70. To provide
for such towns a law was enacted in
1888, offering state aid to all districts
formed in accordance with the provi-
sions of the law, and aid also to the
schools belonging to the districts.

The law may be familiar to you
all, and yet I wish to state its provi-
sions that I may point out some of its
excellences and some of its defects.

"Any two or more towns, the valu-
ation of each of which does not exceed
$2,500,000, and the number of schools
in all of which, is not more than fifty,
nor less than thirty, may, by vote of
the several towns unite, for the pur-
pose of the employment of a superin-
tendent of schools under the provi-
sions of this act."

When such a union has been
effected, the school committees of
the towns uniting shall form a joint
committee, and for the purposes of
this act the joint committee shall be
held to be the agents of each of the
towns comprising the union.

Said committee shall meet annually
in joint convention in the month of
April, at a time and place agreed
upon by the chairmen of the commit-
tees of the several towns comprising
the union, and shall organize by the
choice of chairman and secretary.

The\' shall choose by ballot a
superintendent of schools, determine
the relative amount of service to be
performed by him in each town, fix
his salary, and apportion the amount
to be paid by the several towns, and
certify such amount to the treasurer
of each town.

In affording state aid the legisla-

ture was careful to provide against
any attempt the towns might be in-
clined to make on account of the aid
to reduce the amount they were ac-
customed to raise by taxation for the
support of their schools.

Article 3d of the act relates to
state aid, and is as follows : " When-
ever the chairman and secretary of
such joint committee shall certify
under oath to the state auditor that
a union has been effected as herein
provided — that the towns, in addi-
tion to an amount equal to the aver-
age of the total sum paid by the sev-
eral towns for schools, during the
three years next preceding, unitedly
have raised by taxation and appro-
priated a sum not less than seven
hundred and fifty dollars for the sup-
port, of a superintendent of schools,
and that under the provisions of this
act, a superintendent of schools has
beein employed for one year, a war-
rant shall be drawn upon the treas-
urer of the commonwealth for the
paycnent of Si, 000 [now $1,250] one
half of which sum [now S750] shall
be paid for the salary of such super-
intendent ; and the remaining one
half (that is S500) shall be appor-
tioned and distributed on the basis of
the average public school attendance
of the towns forming such district
for the year next preceding, which
amount shall be paid for the salaries
of teachers employed in the public
schools within such district."

'"A sum not exceeding $35,000
shall be annually appropriated for
the purposes of this act."

To remove the opposition to the
act that might be made by school
committees, it was provided that
they should receive pay for their ser-
vices as heretofore.

EDUCA TIONAL DEPARTMENT.

215

Under the act of iSSS one hundred
and forty-six towns have formed
themselves into districts, and have
provided special supervision for their
public schools.

Some of the results of district
supervision :

1. There has been a large increase
in the attendance of pupils in all
grades of the public schools. The
superintendents in the rural towns
turned their attention at once to this
matter.

2. The teaching force has been
greatly improved.

3. The schools are better graded.

4. They are supplied with better
courses of study.

5. They are taught by better
methods.

6. They are better equipped with
text-books and other means of studj^
and teaching.

7 . New school-houses are construct-
ed more in accordance with the prin-
ciples of comfort, convenience, and
beauty.

8. The superintendents secure a
more intelligent care of school-
houses.

9. They make arrangements for a
more economical expenditure of
money; in many instances saving by
their intelligent use of funds more
than they receive in salaries.

\ The improvements they have caused
to be made in the 'administration of-
school affairs, has excited great inter-
est on the part of parents, and of all
who pay taxes for the support of
schools. There is now a general de-
mand for trained teachers, as shown
in the recent establishment of four
new normal schools. ■

The late returns from the towns in
the commonwealth show how gener-

ally the idea of school superintend-
ence has been accepted.

There are in Massachusetts 353
towns; number of towns under spe-
cial school supervision, 253 ; per cent.,
71.7.

The population of the state is
2,500,183; population under super-
vision, 2,341,867 ; per cent., 93.6.

Number of teachers in the state,
10.409 ; number of teachers under
supervision, 9,447 ; per cent., 90.7.

Number of pupils in the public
schools, 412,953; number under su-
pervision, 584,463 ; per cent., 93.1.

The foregoing statistics are taken
from the report of Mr. Edson.

There are some defects in the Mas-
sachusetts law that have been found
by experience in its application.

In some cases provision should be
made for allowing a town of low val-
uation to unite with a town whose
valuation is above the limit estab-
lished by the law, as the small town
may be so situated that there is no
other small town in the vicinity with
which it can unite.

A district having less than thirty
schools should be allowed aid from
the state, if the state superintendent
approves.

After a district has been formed in
accordance with the provisions of the
law, let it not be dissolved, even if
the- valuation of some of the towns
rises above the limit, nor if the num-
ber of schools in the district is, after a
time, more - than fifty or less than
thirty.

When a union of towns has been
effected, it should not be allowed to
break up until after a trial of three
years, unless it obtains the consent
of the state superintendent of schools,
or of the state board of education.

ED CCA TIONAL DEPAR TMENT.

An experience of three years will
generally make district superintend-
ence a permanent institution.

The laws of Massachusetts do not
grant any independent authority to
school superintendents. All author-
ity in the management of schools is
vested in the town school committee.
The authority of the superintendent
is delegated authority, and this is to
be exercised always with the appro-
val of the committee.

It is now generally understood that
the superintendent should be per-
mitted, with the approval of the com-
mittees, to determine the number of
schools a town shall maintain, to
nominate the teachers to be employed,
to make out courses of studies for the
schools, to direct the teachers in their
methods of teaching, to select the
text-books to be used, to have charge
of the janitors, and to see that the
school-houses are in order.

The superintendent should hold
frequent and regular meetings of the
teachers of his town or district, to
communicate to them the results of
his observations on their work, and
to illustrate before them ways of im-
provement. At the same time he
should not neglect to approve gener-
ously whatever he has found to be
worthy.

There should be a state superin-
tendent of schools in every state. He
should consider it his duty to suggest
to the board of education, or directly
to the legislature of the state, the
legislation necessary for the best ad-
ministration of public school affairs,
visit all parts of the state for the pur-
pose of creating and guiding public
sentiment in regard to the interests of
popular education, attend meetings of
teachers and school officers of the

state, have the special supervision of
the normal schools, organize and con-
duct teachers' institutes, collect in his
office specimens of the best means of
teaching, receive and arrange in his
office the reports and returns of town
school committees, distribute state
documents relating to the system of
public schools, and lastly he should
see to it that the school laws of the
commonwealth are obeyed, and that
all the children of school age are- in
school .

That the state superintendent of
schools may do his work well, and
cause all the educational progress to
be made that the present age de-
mands ; he should have the cooper-
ation of the state government, — the
sympathy of all the different orders
of school men in the state, — the cor-
dial support of the people ; and, in
New Hampshire, he should be as-
sisted in his general work by two
state agents acting under bis special
direction.

The agents should be employed in
visiting the schools, that the condi-
tion of school buildings ma}' be thor-
oughly and intelligently examined;
that any neglect on the part of the
towns to supply their schools with
the means of teaching may be discov-
ered, and that accurate information
may be obtained concerning courses
of studies in use and methods of
teaching.

From such observations the visitors
will be able to infer something of the
preparation of the teacher to perform
in a skilful manner the responsible
duties of his office. In this way the
agents may render important assist-
ance to the state superintendent, to
the town school committees, and to
school teachers who may be aided

NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY

and encouraged by their suggestions.
At the end of the year a report
should be made to the state superin-
tendent, and through him to the
state, of their doings and observa-
tions, to be made the basis of school
legislation.

The agents should be educational
philosophers, such as will command
the respect of teachers, superintend-
ents, and all local school authorities,
and they should be v. illing to work
each in his own field, satisfied with
being the humble instruments of pro-
moting in the best way and in the

highest degree possible the interests
of popular education. The results of
such work will at length impress the
people with the importance of pro-
viding special supervision over all
their schools.

To produce these important changes
in the general management of the
public schools of a commonwealth,
will require patience, perseverance,
tact, skill, faith, courage, patriotism,
and finally, the exercise of all the vir-
tues that have for their object the
well being of the individual and the
ornament of human societv.

C. S. GEORGE.

Charles Smith George was born in Barnstead, September 15, 1816, and was
educated at Henniker academy. He taught school in New Hampshire, Mas-
sachusetts, and New Jersey, and in 1845 was admitted to the bar, having
studied with Hon. \V. H. Hackett at Portsmouth. He practised his profes-
sion for ten years, and then devoted the remainder of his life to agricultural
pursuits. He was a Whig, and later a Democrat, serving as representative
in 1S60 and 1S6 1 , member of the constitutional convention in 1S76, and state
senator in 1887. He was president of the first labor reform state convention
in i8;o, and of the first Greenback state convention in 1878. He died at
Barnstead, January 22.

MRS. EZEKIEL WEBSTER.

Achsah Pollard, widow of Ezekiel Webster, brother of Daniel Webster,
died in Concord, January 31. She was born at Dunstable, now Nashua,
July 9, i<Soi, and was educated at Salem Mass. From the house in Concord,
now known as the Rolfe and Rumford asylum, she was married, August 5,
1825, to Mr. Webster. After his death in court, at Concord, in 1829, she
lived at Boscawen until 1838, and then made her home for thirty years with
her daughter, the wife of Prof. E. D. Sanborn of Dartmouth college. Since
1875 she had resided with her niece, Mrs. Charles C. Lund, at Concord.

.MITCHELL GILMORE.

Mitchell Gilmore was born in Warner, March 31, 1805, and died at Con-
cord February 4. He served his native town as selectman, town clerk, and

2i$~Qk NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY.

representative ; and Merrimack county as register of deeds and county treas-
urer. In 1847, upon the organization of the Equitable Mutual Fire. Insur-
ance company at Concord, he was chosen secretary, and retained the position
for twenty-five years. He was also for a long time grand secretary of the
Grand Lodge of Odd Fellows of New Hampshire.

AMOS PAUL.

Amos Paul, a native of Newmarket, died at Newfields, January 30, at the
age of 85 years. He learned the trade of a machinist, and in 1834, when the
South Newmarket Iron Foundry was incorporated, became its president. In
1849 the Swampscott Machine works was united with the foundry,. and Mr.
Paul became agent. In this position he continued until within three years.
He was a director of the Boston <Sc Maine railroad for twenty-five years, and
as a Republican, served his town in the legislature, and was chosen presiden-
tial elector in 1S68.

J. C. CAMPBELL.

John C. Campbell died at Hillsborough Bridge February 16, at the age of
79 years. He had been cashier of the National bank, and its predecessor., the
Valley state bank, since 1S61. He was town treasurer for twenty-five years,
state representative in 1S71 and 1872, director of the Peterborough & Hills-
borough railroad since 1S7S, president of the Hillsborough Water Works, and
was well known throughout the state.

MRS. S. M. NUTTER.

Sylvauia M., wife of Colonel E. S. Nutter ol Concord, died January 31, at
the age of 72 years, 3 months and 23 days. She was a native of Methuen,
Mass., and was educated at the Andover, Mass., girls' academy, graduating
with honors. She was united in marriage with Colonel Nutter at Lowell,
Mass., in February, 1S45. She was a lady of rare mental attainments, inter-
ested in all charitable work, and a devoted member of the Baptist church.

REV. CHARLES PEABODY.

Rev. Charles Peabody was born at Peterborough, July 1, 18 10, and died at
Longmeadow, Mass., February 9. He was educated at Williams college and
Andover Theological seminary, and preached at Biddeford and Eliot, Me . ,
Epsom, Pownal, Yt., Windsor and Ashburnham, Mass., Barrington, R. I.,
and Ashford, Conn.

M. P. HALL.

Marshall P. Hall was born in Meredith, August 11, 1838, was educated at
Gilford academy, and engaged in the printing business at Manchester until
1862, with the exception of three years, when he taught school in Ohio. Fie
was city librarian of Manchester for three years, and from 1865 to the time
-of his death, was employed by the Amoskeag company as an accountant.
Mr. Hall was a member of the school board of Manchester for twenty-four
years, serving as its clerk and vice-chairman, and was a member of two
state constitutional conventions. He was a Republican in politics, an active
member of the Franklin-street church, and its representative upon the board
of trustees of Eliot hospital. He died in Manchester. February 12.

MOSES FAIRBANKS.

Hon. Moses Fairbanks, a native of Dublin, died at Boston, February 4.
He came to the city when about twenty years of age and entered into busi-
ness. He was a leading bottler, and later was prominent in real estate. In
politics he was a Republican.

Invaluable Aids to Teachers
and Students of Geography

National
GEOGRAPHIC MONOGRAPHS

on the Physical Features
of the Earth's Surface.

Now Ready

1— PHYSIOGRAPHIC PROCESSES
II— PHYSIOGRAPHIC FEATURES

JOHN W. POWELL,

Late Director U. S. Geological Survey.

Annual Subscription — ten Monographs —

payable in advance, .... $1.50

Annual Subscription — five copies to one

address — payable in advance, . . 6.00

Single Monographs, .20

Remit with order to

American Book Company

New York - Cincinnati - Chicago

Just Published

Long's
HOME GFX)GRAPHY

-:- Beautifully Illustrated -:-

PRICE, 25 CENTS

A beginner's book, based on the
natural methods of teaching geog-
raphy recommended in the Report
of the Committee of Ten. Prepares
the 3'oung mind for more advanced
geographical study by cultivating
the observing faculty and imparting
a clear conception of geographic
features.

Sent, postpaid, for 25 cents
AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY

New Y'ork - Cincinnati - Chicago - Boston
Atlanta - Portland, Ore.

?~x

F rye's Geographies ...

„,

Albert F. RiChardSOn, Principal of Ike Castine Normal School.

Castine, Me., Jan. 9, 1896.

We have been using Frye's Complete Geography in the Eastern State
Normal School since the beginning of the last fall term with the very best
satisfaction to teachers and pupils.

We regard it as the very best geography published, and believe it will
soon supplant all other text-books of its kind in our state.

Frye's Primary Geography is used in the training school connected
with our Normal School with the best results- It is a gem.

BOSTON.

GINN & COMPANY. Publishers,

NEW YORK. CHICAGO.

IV-T^'^'' ~

' '■'■

Broujo & Burpcg,

CONSULTING OPTICIANS,
"THE KENNARD, . . . MANCHESTER,
-,30 NO. MAIN ST., CONCORD,
□

Have given a life's study to Ophthalmic optics, and their
parlors and testing rooms were never so well equipped
for the treatment of complicated defects as at the pres-
ent time. Highest standard in ski!3 and material- Low-
est prices consistent with correct work. Von can save
time, patience, and money by -ending your oculist's pre-
scriptions and broken spectacles to The Kennard.
Everything in the optical line. Artificial eyes a specialty
in price and quality. Their Concord rooms are in charge
of W. L. Ticket, a graduate optician, and the senior
member. Mr. Brown, is there ever}- Wedntsday and
Thursdav.

THE WAR OF THE REBELLION

IX SONG AND STORY.

PRKFARRO BY

E. W. PEARSON,

Director <*f M«.-i«. PuMic Schools, Nashua. X. II.. ami Supervisor «f

Mu-ir. State Normal Soli..,. I. Plymouth, N. II.

A Patriotic, Historical, Memorial Exercise for
Public Schools.

"It shouM find its way in t<> every public school in America."—
HON. .Ioiin P.. Smith, Ex-(iovemor of New Hampshire.

•• It is the best of the kin, I that I have ever seen. I shall use U :i>
jmv school."— M vi:v M. UKLI.AJI.VKIA, Priiuipal of School St. School.
Haverhill. >U.-<.

"The best arraiisred program vet published; The selections are
excellent, the musk- admirable, an.l the arrangement complete."—
S. H. DITTOS. Master of Parmenter St. School, Bom. .11. Mass.

AN ACT providhV? t),:it certain sessions of the public schools shall

he ilevoteil t.. exercises of a patriotic nature.

He it enacted bv the Senate arid House of Representatives in G«u>-
eral Court eonvetied:

Section 1. In mH the public schools of the state the last regular
session prior to Memorial Day. or a portion thereof, shall be devoted
to exercises of it patriotic nature.

■>«•. :.'. This a. t shall take effect upon its passage.

Approved Kebruarv 21. l.S'.C.

I copy . . . $ .25 I 50 copies . . . $3.00
10 copies . . . 1.00 100. "... 5.00
25 " ... 2.00 I 810 per thousand.

INFORMATION.

Any further information regarding the exer-
cise/or its proper production, will be gladly
given by the publishers.

REPUBLICAN PRESS ASSOCIATION,
Publishers, Concord, N. H.

TIME TESTS ALL THINGS.

PAGIFIG GUANO COMPANY,

New England Office 92 State Street, Boston,

. . . MANUFACTURERS OF . . .

SOLUBLE PACIFIC GUANO

And Other Fertilizers of the Highest Oracle.

THE BRANDS OF THE PACIFIC GUANO COMPANY

HAVE BEEN BEFORE THE PUBLIC THIRTY YEARS.

[ 4 IN FIELD RESULTS THEY HAVE NEVER BEEN

SURPASSED AND SELDOM EQUALLED
FOR SALE BY RESPONSIBLE AGENTS IN ALL C'TIES AND TOWNS OF NEW ENGLAND

Write (o New Hampshire office at Concord, N. H., for pampwefs.

MU ffiffimtf:. IWffitifa.

-\Vvwj

(jikvp US i

C«KC°P>I> • N fl-

Trtir OPANlTe /^NTrtLX CWlNy

1896

SMITH'S

DBS SHRAMS

gass

Business and Shorthand

"T 7 /* fo date."

Elegant rooms, pleasantly located, but short
iistance from station. Call or write for eata-
ogue. 24 So. Main St., Concord, N. H.

W. D. SMITH, Principal.

16 Packages Flower Seeds, 10c.

; SWEET PEAS

An Elegant Gar
len of the B e s
iame-1 varieties of ^«

We will send one=quarter pound tu any address
postpaid for TEN CENTS in stamps.

Hillside Nursery, - - Somerville, Mass.

EMTDON FRITZ, 2H. T>.

IVHL-rice limited to

Diseases of the Eye, Ear,
Nose, and Throat.

Office hours, 9 to 12 and 2 to 4 .

Rooms 37 and 38, Pickering Bldg.
MANCHESTER, N. H.

Steuben, Reuben, I've been thinking
Of the policies offered by Nicholas Frost,
Every one has got a cash value,
You see it is easy to figure the cost.

2>nthia, Cynthia, I've been thinking,
And I will tell you what I will do,

[ will write at once to Frost of Concord
And insure my life to benefit you.

Specimen policy and rates for any ags on ap«
plication.

Nicholas Frost, Gen. Agt.,

CONCORD, N. H.

JNDER THE CLOCK.

Read Your Paper

AND TRACE

DR. NANSEiYS EXPEDITION

THE NORTH POLE.

O/V THE jSJjZT y{f ftfjj^ p OF THB

NORTH POLAR REGIONS

In Our Edition of

1 1 &jfJ^=±^Msh£=£^^i

i
fell

®M NEW \m

teg General Atlas §g»

£?*^>[ WITH ^LiV<i

\yj§&\ Marginal Index. jwKj
1S96 &«H

\\m\

1 ! p§*

(Size of Page 12 x u 1-2 inches. — 160 Pages.)

157 Pages of Colored Maps, showing Fvery

Country on the Face of the Globe.

index on Harbin of Each Page.

READ This Fine Print. It Will
Interest You.

The dimensions of each page are 12x14 1-2 inches.
The map-- delineate with incomparable accuracy the
physical con forma ion of every State and Territory in
the United States. the Dominion of Canada, and of every
country irr both hemispheres, whether of imperial im-
portance or the smallest republic in Christendom.
The maps themselves reproduce with rare fidelity of
detail the features of every habitable and uninhabited
tract known to the explorer. They also show the areas
and pop - .:" ation of every important city in each State
and Territory of the United States, and the political
subdivisions of the continents of both hemispheres,
every place of prominence being indicated by a Keadv
Referent - Marginal Index, so systematized and classi-
fied that '. le place sought may be located instantly.
Every name is printed from a faultless font of type,
and -tar: Is out clear-cut a-> a cameo. Hence it is typo-
graphic.' .".';y perfect, and unequaled as a vehicle for
imparting; universal knowledge. Its colored pages
bristle with the crispest geographical facts rendered
necessary by the ceaseless changes in the geographi-
cal lines of nations consequent upon the constant up-
setting of the world's landmarks by war, exploitation,
and arbitrament.

Superbly Bound in Fim* English Silk Cloth,
With Colored Edges, sent PREPAID to any <T 1 Qk
Expre-s o.:ice in the United States upon re- J) !•/ O
ceipt of

Order
Work.

Received Now for the Complete
Address,

ATLAS DEPARTMENT, MONITOR BLDG,,

CONCORD, N. H.

JOOOOOOOOOOOOOO QOO« 5 OOOOOOCJK

APRIL., 1896.

-f*

Tnc'dmireANThLY

c^TEtwd

The College Church at Hanover. From a Discourse in Decem-
ber, Last, Entitled "The Centenary of Our Church Build-
ing, " Preached by the Pastor, Rev. S. P. Leeds
Easter, Ella A. Wentworth . . - . . , ._ ...

A Visit to Westminster Abbey, John C Thorne - ...

Hiems, J. F. Libby - . •. • ..*

_ Gorham, George H. Moses . . . . . .... ; . . . L;l.

April Days, Mary M. Currier . . . . .._..•

Roentgen's " X Ray " Photography, Ensign Lloyd H. Chandler, U. S. N.

Light of Gold, W. L. Fogg

'The Legend of John Levin and Mary Glasse, E. P. Tenney .
A Question, Adelaide Cilley YValdron . . . : •• .

Some Memories of Dudley Leavitt, Mrs. Polly A. Prescott
A Sunset Reflection. Caroline M. Roberts .

Educational Department, Fred Gowing . . . . -'."" .
New Hampshire Necrology . . . . . . . .. ..

2 2 7

?33
234
247
248
251
25S
264
265
266
267
275

J The Main Street of the Ocean, by Henry McFarland; New Hampshire Horses,
by II . C. Pearson ; and the town of Lisbon by George H. Moses,
will appear in the May Granite Monthly.

Subscription: $2.00 per year; 51.50 if paid in advance; 20 cents per copy.
Entered at the post-office at Concord, N. H., as second class matter.
Copyright, 1S96, by the Granite Monthly Company. All rights reserved.
Illustrated, printed, and electrotyped by the Republican Press Association, Concord, N. H.

Berlin, N. H., Bonds

4 1=2 per cent.

E. H. Rollins & Sons,

53 State Street, Boston, Mass.

FUiNK <& WAGNALLS'

Standard
Dictionary

iseveryuhere acknoicledged
by Educators, Scholars, the
Press, and the Public to be

THE BEST FOR ALL PURPOSES.

It Is the Late st and M ost Complete.

Contains 301,865 words, many thousand more
than any other dictionary ever published.
More than J9C0, 000 were expended in its pro-
duction. 247 Specialists and Editors were en-
gaged in its preparation.

Its Definitions are Clear and Exact.

President Milne, of New York State Normal
College, says its definitions are best to be
found anyu-here. Scores of critics say the
same.

Its Etymologies are Sound.

They are especially commended by the Atlan-
tic 3Tonth I y, Boston, the Westminster Gazette,
London, Sunday School Times, Philadelphia,
and scores of others.

It is a Government Authority.

It is in use in all the departments of the Uni-
ted States Government at Washington, and
all the departments of the Dominion of Can-
ada. Government experts give it the prefer-
ence on all disputed points.

It is Adopted in the Public Schools

of New York City and elsewhere. Its new ed-
ucational features are extremely valuable in
training pupils to a correct use of words, cap-
itals, hyphens, etc. Its illustrations are su-
perb. Its tables of coins, weights, and meas-
ures, plants, animals, etc., are exhaustive and
cannot be found elsewhere.

It is the Most Highly Commended.

Never has a dictionary been welcomed with
such unanimous and unqualified praise by the
press, the great universities, and by ed'uca-
tors and critics throughout the English-speak-
ing world. Americans are proud of it. Eng-
lishmen admire it.

The London Times says: "The merits of the
Standard Dictionary are indisputable and are
abundantly attested by a large number of unim-
peachable" authorities.*"

The Xew York Herald says: "The Standard
Dictionary is a triumph in the art of publication.
... It is the most satisfactory and most com-
plete dictionary yet printed.

The St. James's Budget ( Gazette), London,
says : " The Standard Dictionary should be the
pride of literary America, as it is the admiration
of literary England."

Sold by Subscription only. AGENTS WANTED.

prices:

Half Russia
Full Russia .
Morocco .

If BO .\ir-nt

In 1. vol. In 2 vols.

$15.00 $18.00

18.C0 22.00

22.00 26.00

in your town s-rU'l your subscription to

Funk & Wagnalls Co., 30 Lafayette PL, New York.

Descriptive Circulars will be <-?nt on application.

111

• ■ry~.TVT>-r--^y7jrj~\

in?-

• - ■ . * ■ ■ ;- I

-tf "

e-:

p r i

■

t ■ b 1

>
o

o
u

K
i— i

■ • -.

- y

;- m

The Granite Monthly.

Vol. XX.

APRIL, 1896.

No.

THE COLLEGE. CHURCH AT HANOVER. 1

FROM A DISCOURSE IX DECEMBER, LAST, ENTITLED "THE CENTENARY OF
OUR CHURCH-BUILDING," PREACHED BY THE PASTOR, REV. S. P. LEEDS.

If:HIS church build-
J. ing was dedicated
one hundred years
ago, on the thir-
teenth day of De-
cember, which, if
I reckon rightly,
fell that year on Sunday. The vil-
lage was then about twenty-five years
old, and the church was of nearly the

number of gentlemen and a much

larger sum

This buildini

money than before,
stood in the College
yard,, at a short distance from the
south-west corner of Dartmouth
Hall." It served its purpose until
iS2S T when it was drawn away.

But the wonderful growth of col-
lege and village in the last decade
of the centurv made better accom-

sarae age. During this period of moda?.ions for public occasions indis-

twenty-five years the church wor-
shipped in a college building that
stood 011 the south-east corner of the
Green. Three or four years later,
when the village had srrown to

pensable, and a conference of cit-
izens formulated plans for the present
house. Five thousand dollars were
raised without difficulty. It has been
said that the erection of so large a
eleven comfortable dwellings (I quote building was mainly due to the ur-

from our dear Judge Chase, the best
of authorities,) '"the citizens, thir-
teen in number, subscribed one hun-
dred dollars to enlarge the College
chapel," and there the services of the
church were held for fifteen years.
At the end of that time, a new chapel
was erected with the aid of a larger

gency of the second President Whee-
lock, and was un-acceptable to many
of the villagers because of its neces-
sary cost. But, however this may be,
the preacher of the dedicatory ser-
mon tells us (I quote his words),
" although we are not a large society,
yet the consideration of public occa-

1 Sorae passages are omitted, a few verbal changes have been made, and. for the sake especially of very many
wtio once worshipped in Hanover, but are no longer residents of it, a few sentences have been added. For the
facts concerning the various buildings used for public worship, ! am very greatly indebted to the late Frederic
Chase, Esq. — s. r. L.

220

THE COLLEGE CHURCH AT HANOVER.

considering immediate needs, al-
though we should not forget that
Lyme, immediately north of us,
erected a still larger building a few-
years later. Our edifice was enlarged
at the south end by a " belcony " fif-
teen feet square, and this, fifty feet
high, was surmounted by a steeple of

Eleazar Wheelock, First Paster.

sions frequently occurring early led
the minds of the settlers to view the
expediency of a spacious and con-
venient house. It was this consider-
ation that occasioned the long delay
in building." And the preacher
speaks of ' ' few as associated in the
design," and of the house as dedi-
cated " at their request and in their
behalf."

One half of the sum subscribed was
paid in cash as needed, and the re-
mainder in beef, pork, grain, lumber,
and labor at fixed prices. Labor was
estimated at fifty-eight cents a day.
The means were wholly furnished by
individuals, but with the understand-
ing that the College should share in
the use of the building under arrange-
ments that still exist. A few words
more on the meeting-house, as it was
then, projected early in the year 1794
but not completed or at least not ded-
icated till near the end of 1795.

It was sixty-six feet long by sixty
wide, of liberal dimensions therefore,

fes* $fr

*--

*
■

Prof. R. Shurtieff, Pastor, l8C5-'27.

fifty feet more. This latter unfortu-
nately, especially so since the later
strengthenings of the structure, was
taken down from unnecessary timid-
ity about twenty years later ; ten
years afterwards, the present steeple
was erected.

The house contained sixty-six pews
nearly square, i. e., seven and a half
feet by five and a quarter. One such,
certainly, remained when I came, but
with both seats facing pulpit-ward.
Of course many of their occupants
were obliged to sit with the back to
the preacher, but perhaps found
compensation in having their faces
towards the choir. In prayer-time,.

THE COLLEGE CHURCH A T HA NO VER.

221

when, according to custom, all stood,
the seats were raised on hinges, and
great was the clatter when the devo-
tions were ended and the seats re-
sumed. The pews were raised from
the aisles one step in the middle
blocks and two steps on the wall, a
fact of which we have reminders still.
For forty years they were numbered
with chalk. Like the galleries, the
pulpit was very high : a sounding-
board was suspended over it ; and
attached to the front of the pulpit
platform were the deacons' official
seats, two in number, raised one
above the other and facing the con-
gregation.

At first, although there were fifty-

J /** *-<■

■

John Richards, Pastor, 1841- 59.

seven windows, the house had no
appliance for heating. Some ladies
brought with them foot-stoves.
Judge Xesmith has related that,
when a Freshman, his "best foot"
was frozen during sen-ice. Not till
1S22, when similar improvements (it
appears) were made in the College
building, was a large stove brought

in. and placed, seemingly, in the cen-
tre of the house. But improvements
were to come. In 1S3S two chimneys
were built at the north end, stoves
were placed near the doors, and the
"long pipes," as Judge Chase ex-
presses it, and as I, arriving here in
December, 1S60, can verify, "sus-
pended over the side aisles, dripped
creosote diligently on the floor and
frescoed the chimneys."

But let us now turn for a while to
the preacher of the dedication ser-
mon that December day in 1795. It
was, most naturally, the pastor of the
Church. But he was not its first
pastor, who was the founder of the
College, Eleazar Wheelock. Nor
was he its second, Silvanus Ripley.
Of him, a son-in-law of President
Wheelock, Ripley, the gifted preach-
er, whom the royal governor, Went-
worth, would have persuaded to enter
the English church, and the faithful
professor in the College, there is not
time to speak ; I only allude to his

- J,
■

Rev. S. P. Leeds, Present Pastor.

222

THE COLLEGE CHURCH AT HANOVER.

tragic death. Returning on a Sun-
day afternoon in February, 17S7,
from the church at the Centre where
he had been preaching, and riding
backward in the storm because of his
delicate health, he fell from his seat
and broke his neck. He was only
thirty-seven years old. The pastor
and preacher of that day was the
Rev. John Smith, professor of lan-
guages in the College. He grad-
uated here in 1773. two years after
Ripley, like him studied divinity with
Dr. Wheelock, and taught here for
35 years till his death in 1809. He
was professor of the Latin, Greek,
Hebrew, and Oriental languages, and
he published grammars in three of
these with other works. He was
most assiduous in labor, and his asso-
ciates agreed that the}* had known no
man with the same natural endow-
ments who had been more useful.
He had been associated as pastor with
Mr. Ripley for five years, and after
that gentleman's death was sole pas-
tor for nearly twenty years, when the
Church in its present congregational
form was organized. After that time,
although residing here, he continued
to preach to the Vermont branch of
the original Church until he died.
The President of the College at this
time, it may be remarked, was John
Wheelock, a son of the founder, and
not a clergyman.

Dr. Smith's sermon was from the
text, " The Lord that made heaven
and earth bless thee out of Zion,"
and its subject, as given in the title
page, was "The Duty Advantages
and Pleasures of Public Worship."
It is quite unlike the typical sermon
of those days. Its text is but a motto
or little more ; a few minutes are de-
voted at the beginning to the general

subject of worship, and a reverent be-
havior in it is enjoined ; about as
many minutes more are given to the
benefits and pleasure of it ; and a
brief conclusion refers to the past,
dedicates the house (as has been
said) at the request and in the be-
half of the donors, and ends with
devout expressions. It is a fitting
and rather graceful discourse 011 a
somewhat difficult occasion. In a
note prefixed to it as published, he
expresses his joy in the prospect of
his people's "increasing respecta-
bility/'

A most interesting occasion, that
day, could we reproduce it. Pres-
ident Wheelock and that excellent
man, Professor Woodward, sat near
the front, and around them were their
associates in the enterprise. We
should be glad to know the hymns
sung, the scriptures read ; we should
be glad to know more definitely the
aspect of those who gathered on the
uncarpeted floors and within the bare
walls of the unwarrned structure on
that December day. But no survivor
can tell us, and so far as I know no
record is preserved.

Since that time the building has
been occupied almost uninterruptedly
for religious services. There have
been rare occasions when the making
of changes or repairs prevented this.
The communion was administered
here to the Presbyterian church once
a quarter until, I think, 1815, in
addition commonly (I suppose)
to the regular services of the same
nature.

11 By 1838, after a generation of
use, the whole structure had fallen
out of repair. A radical renovation
was made. The old square pews
were taken out and the present slips

THE COLLEGE CHURCH A T HAND VER.

223

of half the width were substituted.
One half of the windows were boarded
up, and all, for the first time, were
provided with, blinds. The entire
floor was raised to the height of the
wall pews, and the pulpit platform
rearranged. The present steeple was
erected." Thirty years later another
important improvement was made.
The foundations were wholly re-
newed, vestibules were built at the
side doors, and a furnace for wood
took the place of the stoves. The
old chimneys were taken away from
the north end, and a new one was
built near the tower. The house was
repainted, and carpeted anew, and
the students' seats were cushioned
and widened. In 1S77 the building
was lengthened ten feet at its north-
ern end ; the galleries were lowered
two feet, and the pulpit according!}',
the south gallery narrowed three feet
— the organ being transferred from it
to the present location ; and, for the
first time, the floor of the house and
the pews were carpeted all alike.
The organ had been erected in 1852,
through the efforts of Professor
Brown.

But at last, in 1SS9, a much greater
change was to be made in the house,
the first radical one for half a century.
A lady from Philadelphia, watching
here over a dying husband, gave fifty
dollars towards improvements, as an
expression of gratitude for kindnesses
she had received. A friend of the
pastor visiting him added an equal
amount. This was considerably in-
creased by gifts from one and another
residing here. Our fellow townsman
and church member, Mr. Hiram
Hitchcock, being acquainted with
the efforts making among us, gave
generous encouragement. I received

from him a succession of almost or
quite daily notes in each of which he
increased his subscription by two
hundred and fifty or five hundred
dollars. At length, by his wish,
photographs were taken and sent to
him. These were submitted to Mr.
Stanford White of New York, who
had recently designed the beautiful
centennary arch in that city, now
standing in marble. "You are in
danger," said he, "of spoiling a fine
old colonial church." He made de-
signs, which he afterwards presented
to us, no doubt for Mr. Hitchcock's
sake. His object was to beautify
and modernize, yet to preserve the
original characteristics of an old-fash-
ioned New England church. And
his designs included everything, the
tinting of the walls and ceiling, for
instance, down to the carpets and
cushions. Except in the lowering of
the upper tier of windows formerly
close under the eaves, and the omis-
sion of the blind windows, the exter-
nal appearance remains unchanged,
the extension of twelve feet not affect-
ing sensibly the general proportions.
But within it would be much easier
to tell what was not done than what
was, the only thing, perhaps, left un-
done (and necessarily so), being the
removal of the stairs at the entrances
of the several aisles. At the time I
counted a dozen or more groups of
changes that were made. The heads
of yonder pilasters, for example, were
"treated," as the architects express
it, and brought into their present
graceful form. The striking feature
of the change, however, was the ex-
tension of the north or pulpit end,
and the erection of a permanent plat-
form adapted to the uses of com-
mencement. The new organ should

224

THE COLLEGE CHURCH AT HA NO VER.

also be mentioned, another gift from
the same generous donor. 1

For the sake of many former wor-
shippers no longer resident in Han-
over, the following description by
Prof. Arthur S. Hardy is appended:
"The vestibule is greatly improved
by the removal of the old stairways;
access to the galleries being so pro-
vided for as to leave a spacious and
well-lighted entrance. The seats on

circular window of the same fills the
rear wall-space behind the pulpit.
The choir platform in front of the
organ is screened by a heavy railing
of brass, hung with silk curtains, and
the gas chandeliers, five in number,
are also of brass, with candle-burners
of old colonial pattern. The pulpit
was designed by Mr. White, and is
richly decorated with carvings to cor-
respond with those of the entablature

- i

Present Interior o* the College O.urch.

the floor of the house have been
widened and lowered, and the re-
arrangement of the pews in the rear
gallery secures freer access to those
on the east and west sides. The ex-
tension at the north end of the church
is twelve feet in depth, and contains
the pulpit recess, organ, and pastor's
room. The union between the body
of the house and this addition is
effected by three arches and a facade
of fluted Ionic columns and pilasters.
The side arches are filled above the
door-ways with crackled glass, and a

and capitals of the facade. The walls
and ceriings have been treated in flat
tints of a warm buff and a pale blue,
and tfiae wood-work is uniformly
painted in colonial white. The result
is one of great harmony and beauty,
and the. interior can safely challenge
comparison with more pretentious
structu res for cheerfulness and rich-
ness of effect, while the whole is one
of the Sanest specimens of old colonial
architecture in the country."

It wov;dd require the knowledge of
Judge Chase to depict another than

*Most fitly might Judge Chase close his very felicitous addre-* aon the reopening of the church with these
words: " With what feelings of gratitude and wonder would "the Jjeraerous and far-seeing men who built it be-
hold it now, by modern taste and generosity faultlessly complete, am the style of their own period, to a degree of
beauty and comfort beyond their most fanciful dreams. Long may it survive, a blessing to all who dwell under
its shadow ! "

THE COLLEGE CHURCH AT HANOVER.

225

the religious side of the history of
this building. He himself said. — " it

will not be forgotten that, as the place
for all general gatherings religious
and secular for many years, there is
another side to its history which both
time and ability would fail me to de-
scribe." Very many have been the
scenes within these old walls, sacred,
secular, solemn, mirthful — irreverent
sometimes, momentous. I shall not
attempt to tell the story of the great
conflict, in the first quarter of the
century, when this edifice was the
coveted prize for commencement day
of the college and the new university
then existing here. — how the students
of the college took possession of it the
night before, barricaded its doors,
and prepared by stones and other-
wise at its windows to defend it from
their rivals.

I can only suggest the long list of
men eminent in letters, philosophy,
statesmanship, and even arms, who
have spoken from this platform, es-
pecially in commencement-week.
The prose poet Emerson, and the
scholarly Hillard and the eloquent
Edward Everett are representatives
of man}-. 1 Here Rufus Choate paid
his reverential tribute to Webster,
and William M. Evarts commemo-
rated Chief Justice Chase, and that
illustrious graduate of Dartmouth.
George Perkins Marsh, received due
honor from President Brown. None
who saw can forget the scene when
General Sherman, the year after the
ending of the great war, rose in re-
sponse to the graceful words of Pres-

1 Others who have officiated as orators and poets at the anniversaries of the Phi Beta Kappa society, are
President Jesse Appleton, Daniel Webster, Richard Fletch-is-., Daniel Oliver, Rufus Choate. Charles B. Had-
dock, Ichabod Bartlett. Ira Perley (twice;. Charles D. Cleveland. George Bush, Calvin E. Stowe., Oliver W.
Holmes (twice), Caleb S. Henry, Taylor Lewi «... Leonard Woods. Jr.. Levi Woodbury, George P. >rarsh.
Leonard Bacon, Samuel G. Eruwn. George W. Cethune. John G. Saxe, Ogden Hoffman, William G. T. Shedd,
James T. Fields, Edwin D. Sanborn, George L. Prentiss. Alpheus Crosby. Charles A. Aiken, James W. Pat-
terson, Charles H. Bell, Charles D. Warner, no: to mention fifty more. I am unable to give the names of many-
others still who have come at the call of the literary socie:':es or of the Alumni association.

ident Smith by whom he had just
been announced as Doctor of Laws ;
the enthusiasm and delight were won-
derful to see. It would be easy to
multiply pictures of a most interest-
ing character. How large the crowds
of young men going out from the col-
lege into the world, that have come
down this middle aisle, — in all about
five thousand. Among them, within
the first twenty years after the erec-
tion of the church, were such as
Bishop Chase and Dr. Mussey, Judge
Fletcher, the historian Ticknor, and
General Thayer, William Goodell
the missionary and that saintly mys-
tic, Professor Upham, — but I forbear ;
perhaps I ought not to have begun,
yet these represent different classes of
illustrious men.

How man}* good men and good
women have paused here on their way
to their last resting-place. Not a few of
us will recall, in this month of Decem-
ber, that our prized Professor Xoyes
was borne hither on the twenty-sixth
of the month ten years ago, and will
remember the deep and sacred peace
that rested on his face. He had been
preceded by his earl}- associate, Pro-
fessor and President Brown, in No-
vember. He was followed in five
days by Professor Sanborn ; on the
last day of the year we laid his dust
away, that long-to-be remembered
man, like some strong elder brother
wilting till the last to close the door
upon the history of that faithful gen-
eration.

u With them numbered may we be,
Here, and in eternity ! "

226 EASIER.

But, of course, it has been through once, at most, has there failed (I
the worship of God's people and the think) to be service here for a geuer-
preaching of His gospel that this ation at least, except at such times of
church edifice has best served the renovation as have been spoken of,
three generations that have passed and then service has been held else-
si nee its erection. It is a very pleas- where among us. There have been
ant thing to remember that this house the steady ministrations of pastors
is never closed on the Lord's day, and teachers, and earnest and emi-
and a quite note- worthy thing. In nent evangelists have labored here,
summer and winter, on days of tem-
pest as on other days, it is open ; but *****

EASTER.
By Ella A. Wentwerth.

Out from the silent night dawns fair the Easter morning,
In shimmering tints of opal, gold, and pearl ;

The sun-kissed clouds low in the orient lying,
Their banners bright with radiant light unfurl.

As dawns the day from out the night of darkness,
All sweet and fair, with glad and cheering ray ;

So, from the tomb, its silence and its sadness,
Did Christ arise to Heaven's eternal day.

Oh, lilies fair, unfold your snowy petals !

Breathe incense sweet from out your hearts of gold !
Fit emblems of our glorious risen Saviour,

Whose tender love doth all the earth enfold.

Sing to His praise ye ransomed hosts of heaven !

Thou sons of earth, kneel at His sacred feet !
Call on His name with holy reverence tender !

And o'er thy life shall fall a blessing sweet.

The crimson flowers of sin, and pride, and passion,
Shall fade away before His glorious face :

And lilies pure, of peace, and love, and gladness,
Shall bloom in beaut}', perfectness, and grace.

High unto heaven let music glad, triumphant,

Of voices sweet in anthems grand arise :
All praise to Him, our blessed Lord and Saviour,

Who lives fore'er, enthroned above the skies.

A VISIT TO WESTMINSTER ABBEY.

By John C. Thome.

" Imagine a temple marked with the hand of antiquity, solemn as religious awe, adorned with
all the magnificence of barbarous profusion, dim windows, fretted pillars, long colonnades, and
dark ceilings." — Goldsmith.

■

T was not very long ago
; that I had the great
pleasure of visiting this
fy' : ;-?*ftMir ancient and world -re-
^^IVhES- downed abbey. On sev-
'/'*'■<•*?*> eral successive days, as
we would step out
from our tempora-
ry home (Westmin-
ster Palace hotel),
which was situated
directly in front
and almost within
the moving shad-
ows of the two
might}' towers that
adorn the great
western entrance,
we would wander
in and through the
aisles of this fam-
ous cathedral.

The^site of West-
minster is an island
in the Thames,
formerly called
"Thorney," and
was of earlier importance than Lon-
don. Here Edward the Confessor
lived and laid the foundations of the
Abbey about the year 1065. On
this spot, according to some writers,
an ancient pagan temple had stood.
The edifice has been added to and
beautified by many monarchs, espe-

daily by Henry III, Richard III,
and Henry the VII. The form is
that of a Latin cross, 511 feet long
and 203 feet wide across the tran-
septs, while the roof attains an ele-
vation of over 100 feet. The facade
is toward the west
and the altar and
choir at the east
end, in the direc-
tion of Christ's
birth-place, an ar-
rangement of en-
trance and altar in
cathedrals which I
believe is always
maintained. It was
called Westminster
to distinguish it
from St. Paul's,
originally named

.j . v . ii -

Westminster Asbey — Front View.

East-minster.

It is the shrine of
travelers from every
land. Streams of
visitors have flowed
through it, in ever
increasing volume, since the days of
Queen Elizabeth. Here the Anglo-
Saxons of America find the founders
of their race. What beauties of arch-
itecture meet our view ! It is the
chief burial place of the nation's
great men. It is the Pantheon of
England's glory.

228

A VISIT TO WESTMINSTER ABBEY.

A feeling of mystery and awe comes
upon one as he enters the dim cathe-
dral light and gradually comprehends
the vastness and the grandeur of this
noble abbe}'. One notes, almost the
first, the monument to the poet Con-
greve and reads the inscription there-
on, written by himself, as one of the
best of descriptions of the impressions
of this magnificent cathedral, so
hoar}- with age and so filled with
buried greatness :

tors and philosophers, her poets and
her divines. For eight hundred years
the abbey has been gathering within
her arms, as their last resting-place,
the mortal remains of "famous Eng-
lishmen from every rank and creed
and ever}- form of mind and service. "
It has been the home of schools, a
monastery, a sanctuary, the seat of
coronations and the sepulchre of
kings. It has been so intimately
connected with Britain's growth for

Ss ■- ^= -■-« ■ ' i t •■■a

— ■■- I

Westminster Abbey — Not- Fror.i

"All is hush'd and still as death. *T is dreadful !
How reverend is the face of this tall pile.
Whose ancient pillars rear their marble heads
To bear aloft its arch'd and ponderous roof,
By its own weight made steadfast and immov-
able,
Looking tranquility ! It strikes an awe
And terror on my aching sight ; the tombs
And monumental caves of death look cold,
And shoot a chillness to my trembling heart."

Here are many of the pillars of
state, now lying prostrate, that once
supported the dignity and power of
England. Here lie entombed, on
ever}- side, her warriors and states-
men, her kings and princes, her inven-

these centuries that its wealth of his-
toric associations is probably un-
equaled by that of any church on
earth. Dean Stanley says: "It
stands alone amongst the buildings of
the world. There are, it may be,
some which surpass it in beauty or
grandeur ; there are others, certainly,
which surpass it in depth and sublim-
ity of association ; but there is none
which has been entwined by so many
continuous threads with the history
of a whole nation."

A VISIT TO WESTMINSTER ABBEY.

229

As we tread the broad and
lofty aisles of this beautiful
and magnificent Gothic pile,
crowded with the sculptured
forms of the nation's heroes ;
or stand in the shadow of
some grand monument, tow-
ering high amid the cathe-
dral's clustered columns,
raised to the memory and in-
scribed with the noble deeds
of the great man whose hand-
ful of bones lie beneath, one
cannot but be impressed with
a feeling of grandeur and so-
lemnity. One ma}* also, in
looking further and contem-
plating this monumental dis-
play of wealth and parade of
worldly greatness, be led to
exclaim "vanity of vani-
ties," and to agree with Mot-
ley when he says, — '-Monu-
ments ! What are they ? The
very pyramids have forgot-
ten their builders or to whom
they were dedicated. Deeds,
not stones, are true monu-
ments of the great."

Royalty, too, is here in all
the possible pomp and splen-
dor of its gorgeous sepul-
chres. Kings and queens
from the First. Edward to
George the Third.

-'Think how many royal bones
Sleep within these heaps of

stones !
Here they lie — had realms and

lands,
Who now want strength to lift

their hands,
Where from their pulpit, sealed

with dust,
They preach, ' In greatness is no

trust.' "

There are graves, how-
ever, by the side of which

«M> t*< v "»»}« f"

;'!3:j§!!!hl!i

View from the North.

■ -is

Poet s Corner

tar . sjfiblJ'^rlu:*

Altar and Choir.

%/Mt*JL.

230

A VISIT TO WESTMINSTER ABBEY'.

we stand with reverence, as we
think of their great work for hu-
manity. One there is, near the cen-
ter of the nave, upon which you
almost step in passing, covered with
a flat slab of marble, which is also
a part of the pavement, inscribed,
"David Livingstone, April iS,
1874." On it still lies the large
wreath of white flowers, gathered
where he died in Africa and placed
there by Henry M. Stanley on his

fif£ fl -' V* $%?

actors in almost every scene of Eng-
lish history, from every department
of life and kind of duty, are around
us ; hours of research and study are
suggested by the reading of a name
or an epitaph.

"Along the walls where speaking marbles show
What worthier form the hallowed mould below;
Proud names, who once the reins of empire held;
In arms who triumphed; or in arts excelled;
Chiefs grac'd with scars, and prodigal of blood ;
Stern patriots, who for sacred freedom stood;
Just men, by whom impartial laws were given;
And saints, who taught, and led, the way to
Heaven."

<;r$m

> - ■

j 1 _ — . -\ x .

***-

XJS^ll*- -

rilAKl l> f\ - '

h _• 1 I A> ' s "

D. 13. SEI

Fox Monurr.ent.

■

_.,_ .— ---— ?*

wedding da}'. Here reposes the body
of the great missionary and explorer,
the revered Dr. Livingstone, while
his heart, as it was in his life, is in
the wilds of Africa, at the foot of an
immense tree which dominates the
landscape, where it was buried by his
faithful followers. Consider it all
and how much it tells of heroic living
and dying that a dark continent
might be opened to the light of a
Christian civilization.

Three thousand of the principal

Here is the often noted "Poet's
Corner," in the southern transept;
the monuments are not as splendid as
those erected in other sections but
here we love to linger, for we recog-
nize the names of old friends, —
Chaucer, Spenser, Dryden, Addi-
son, Milton, with scores of others.
Shakespeare's monument is here —
"beneath the cloud-capt towers, the
gorgeous palaces, and the solemn
temples; " of Westminster — while his
dust lies in the chancel of the little

A VISIT TO WESTMINSTER ABBEY

'3i

church at Stratford- on- Avon. By
the side of Milton is Gray's marble
remembrance, while his body is in
the "country churchyard" at Stoke
Pogis, made immortal by his beau-
tiful elegy.

Near at hand the name of Isaac
Watts greets us ; although dead these
one hundred and fifty years his
"Psalms and Hymns'* are preach-
ing sermons yet. Here lies the
brilliant Lord Macaulay, here is the
bust of Thackeray, and the grave of

England's statesmen. It is here the
powerful William Pitt, Earl of Chat-
ham, is buried, of whom Macaulay
said, — " no man has left a more splen-
did name." The younger Pitt is laid
in the same vault, while his statue
stands over the western door of the
abbey in the commanding attitude of a
mighty orator. How like reading the
pages of history are the names upon
the graves, Fox, Grattau, Wilber-
force, Canning, Warren Hastings, Sir
Robert Peel, and Lord Palmerston.

<■

^.J"r-£\i

fc*. I..,.- I /**.A u flfc i Z L..-- • - tea*

Cnapel of

Dickens; Handel, also, the great
musician, composer of "Messiah"
and "Israel in Egypt," above whose
grave is this inscription, — "I know
that my Redeemer liveth."

So music and poetiy, the twin arts,
lie side by side in the old abbey.

The dust of Sir Isaac Newton occu-
pies, as it should, a prominent place
in the very front of the choir, for his
was one of the greatest minds of any
age, or people — a discoverer of the
immutable laws of God.

In the north transept is the final
home of all that is earthly of many of

Her.ry VII.

Westminster Assembly met in the
choir of this edifice July i, 1643, con-
sisting of 121 divines and 30 lay-
men. The houses of Parliament
assisted in the opening of this great
assembly. The meetings were held
in the chapel of Henry VII and in
the Jerusalem Chamber. For five
and one half years, for 1,163 sessions,
they continued their laborious work,
and from it came the Directory, the
Longer and Shorter Catechism, and
the Confession of Faith.

A great many chapels are con-
nected with this great cathedral, the

22,2

A VISIT TO WESTMINSTER ABBEY.

» i ZJS&' - « -T-^v -> •••'*■

Roof of Henry VII Chapel.

most important that of Henry VII.

' On entering this, the most gorgeous

of sepulchres," says Irving, ''the
eye is astonished by the pomp of
architecture, and the elaborate beauty
of sculptured detail. The very walls
are wrought into universal ornament,
incrusted with tracery and scooped
into niches, crowded with the statues
of saints and martyrs.

"Stone seems, by the cunning
labor of the chisel, to have been
robbed of its weight and density, sus-
pended aloft, as if by magic, and the
fretted roof achieved with the won-
derful minuteness and airy security
of a cobweb." A more ancient
writer says, — "This chapel looks so
far exceeding human excellence that
a man would thiuk it was
knit together by the fin-
gers of angels, pursuant to
the directions of omnipo-
tence." In the centre of this
grand mausoleum, stands
the tomb of its founder and
of his queen, Elizabeth of
Vork. By their marriage
the houses of Vork and
Lancaster were united, the
" Wars of the Roses " were
ended, and Henry became
the first Tudor kiue.

By their side, in the
vault underneath this beau-
tiful tomb, was discovered
quite recently, and very un-
expectedly too, the body of
James I, who united in him-
self the thrones of England
and Scotland and was the
first of the line of Stuart
kings. Separated from his
family he had in some mys-
terious way joined in death
the lines of Tudor and
Stuart kings, and affirmed the recon-
ciliation of their kingdoms.

We regret to bid adieu to this beau-
tiful and interesting place, for art
brings at our bidding the charms of
sculpture and architecture ; and his-
tory, the records and memories of
great men and noble deeds. We
pass out beneath the portals of the
abbey, and as we turn for a farewell
look the afternoon sun is playing
in gleams of radiant light upon
tower and pinnacle of the glorious
old cathedral, reflecting back into
our hearts a glow of warmth, and
life, and hope ; telling us that the
world is not all dead and buried,
but that days of opportunity for high
achievement are still upon the earth.

r >n - ■ ■

apis

h\ ■ >i

,,i ;!'!iii'- r J\

Tomb of H<

VII, Queen Elizabet:

York, ar.d James I.

HIEMS.

By J. F. Libby.

How the wind blows !
Across white fields of silent snows,
Over the neighboring hiil it goes,
While the forests bow their heads and moan,
And storm-fiends shriek and shout and groan
Like cries of defiance of fighting foes.

How the wind blows !

See the snows fly !
Xow creeping along, now mounting high,

Over the hills,

In eddying rills,
Each sparkling beam of sunlight thrills
With the crystal wings of merry wights
That away from Frost-land steal o' nights.
See them writhe themselves about,
Gracefully curving in and out.
Held in the arms of the piping winds,
Rushing along like hunted hinds,
Embracing, entwining, their flowing hair,
In love with the elfs of the wintry air !

Hear them sigh,

Mounting high,
Kissing the brow of the blue-eyed sky,
Turning and twisting and dancing by,

See the snows fly !

How the snows fall
O'er summer's hopes and bury them all !
How silent they lie 'neath their pitying pall !
Ye imp of winter so white and fair,
So purely robed ! Yet thy snowy hair
And long, white beard proclaim that Death
Steals forth o'er the world in thy frozen breath.
But the warm heart of the earth throbs on,
And for many a waiting bud shall dawn
The smile of a gentler being ; and so
The hoping heart rejoices to know
That winter's a part of life — not all,

Though the snows fall.

GORHAM.

By George H. Moses.

THROWN

by a colonial
governor whose
generosity with
another's lands
has known no
parallel, the site
of the lovely village of Gorham was
cheaply held a century and a quarter
ago when its crowning scenic charms
of mountain panoply and narrowing
river gorge through which the An-
droscoggin runs brawling to the sea
were ill appreciated. The narrow
Indian trail along the river's brink
swept disdainfully by and while above
and below the hardy pioneer sought
foothold for himself and his family for
more than thirty years this spot was
left neglected and its primal solitude
was first permanently invaded by a
ne'er-do-weel from Pigwacket whose
hunter's camp was thrown up in the
shadow of the mighty hills close to a
rippling stream which the mountain
sides had crowded into a narrow
course. Bezaleel Bennett was a wan-
derer in the land, and though he
brought his mother and his sister
from their Pigwacket home to share
his rude abode he nevertheless de-
parted in a few years and left only
the blackened stones of his fireplace
to mark the fact of his having been
here.

He was followed by another and a
far different sort of man who had
come from Andover, Mass., before

the century was born and had taken
a homestead in Shelburne from which
he had come over into the despised
"Addition" in 1S05 bringing a large
family for whom he soon made a
home and established himself for life.
Stephen Messer, as his name was,
was unique among his fellows as
being for many years l ' the only pray-
ing man in town" and his wife as
physician and nurse for the entire
community left a reputation which
yet endures. The sons, too, have laid
hold upon fame and still retain in his-
tory the championship belt for mak-
ing snow-shoes and baskets, while the
daughters by a numerous progeny
have kept alive the family reputation.
The newcomers were not long with-
out neighbors and soon the once de-
spised "Addition" wore a populous
aspect, while in enterprise it far out-
stripped the parent grant of Shel-
burne, tor in 1S12 when the Shel-
burne recruits marched away to fight
in the second war with England a
man from the "Addition" com-
manded the company. Despite the
increased population land values still
ruled low and in 1807 one Joseph
Jackson purchased the lot where now
the thickly settled village stands for
twenty-five dollars. Jackson was a
man of enterprise and the first orchard
in the town was set out hy him, hav-
ing brought the small trees from Can-
terbury in a sack upon his back. Pie
was enterprising, too enterprising,

3L3S

r r I S

[§ fWZjE

.„, j^-s^t-, , .-,^-»_ - „ -^

! ;

1 -t :-•■■ ■: t- if,

" I'-; V? <

" SO

- i

■'■:-'-

■ -. •■ € . - ■ • . ;

: ■ -'.■.■■ • " q

J tt

" ...

I -

:**

236

GORHAM.

,^--

! -

rious bills in Canada and to dispose
of it in the lower settlements. But,
despite the supply of counterfeit
notes, money of all kinds was very
scarce and, a veracious historian in-
forms us, tobacco which was even

J. F. Libby.

Gen. Albert S. Twitcnell.

alas ! for, being concerned in the

passing of counterfeit money, he was

arrested and sentenced to the state

prison from which he escaped, mak-
ing his way to the West Indies

where he died. Jackson's chief

offense in the counterfeiting matter

seems to have been that he was less plenty was a far better circula-

caught, for it was quite common in ting medium.

those days to secure a supply of spu- The infant settlement under the

shadow of the Carter
range fared badly in its
early years. It had
scarcely begun to grow
before the War of 18 12
broke out and the years
succeeding the establish-
ment of peace were hard
ones. The country's com-
merce was crippled and
finances were exhausted.
Far from a market and
with little or nothing to-
sell the new settlement
was fortunate in even
Twitcheifs Block. maintaining itself alive.

GORHAM.

2.37

Added to this was a suc-
cession of inclement sea-
sons in which few and
scanty crops were matured
so that every device was
resorted to in order to eke
out the meagre supplies,
while had it not been for
the game of the forests
and the fish of the streams
many a larder would have ;
gone entirely bare. As it
was there was none to spare

and though nobody starved „._

the make-shifts to which
the culinary department
was forced in every household are evi-
dences of the stringency of the times.
But better times came at last. The

• - ■ .. — ■■■ i

V. V. Twitchell.

narrow Indian trail broadened to a
highway which brought newcomers
to the "Addition" and in 1S23 the
settlement felt itself prosperous
enough to establish a school for
which a teacher was secured at a dol-

lar a week and board. Before com-
ing to the "Addition" this teacher
had. kept school in Shelburne where
it is said one of her scholars on being
asked if she had been through addi-
tion answered, "Not clear through,
but I have been to Grandpa Ces-
ser's." Grandpa Messer, it will be
recalled, was the first permanent set-
tler in the "Addition." But in spite

G. VV. Noyes.

23S

GORHAM.

'&W8%

tM *

^^n

^v.'^/,.-v

w£m$k-

The High School.

of the enlarged arable area and the
establishment of the school the vil-
lage grew slowly and in 1S29 there
were but three framed houses in the
town. The rudimentary stages of the
town's development lasted five years
longer, and in 1S34 with the estab-
lishment of a tavern and the building
of a mill the ''Addition" began to
think of independence.

Accordingly, in 1S36, the legisla-

ture was importuned for a charter and
the town 01 Gorham was created, the
name being suggested by Lot Davis,
who had come to the "Addition "
from Chatham,, his mother having
been a daughter of William Gorham
of Gorham, Maine, for whom that
town was named. The first town
meeting was held at the tavern and
was marked by great unanimity, a
feature which disappeared in the en-
suing year when the balloting was
more spirited and partisan feeling
more acute.

The new town enjoyed a natural
and a healthy growth from the grant-
ing of its charter. Trade increased
and enterprise abounded. The van-

l& — -

r m

W. F. Anrlfjs

John R. Hitchcock.

guard of that vast army of tourists
who now take possession of the moun-
tain regions each summer began to
make its way into the little village
and the lumber which stood so thick
in the forest began to make its way
out. Under careful management the

GORHAM.

239

farms grew more productive and the -
hamlet thrived.

But presently the narrow Indian
trail along the Androscoggin re-
sounded with the advance of a new
asrent of civilization and the railroad
came following the very tracks of the

t ssSS^

■"*> ^ 7

■^

■

Dr. Henry Marbie.

red men who had threaded their way
up the forest-clad valley a century
before. The first train was run into
Gorham in 1S50, and three years later
when the line had been completed
from Portland to Chicago the village
was chosen as the site for the com-
pany's repair shops which have been
maintained here ever since, despite
destruction by fire and frequent temp-
tation to remove elsewhere. The
shops, indeed, furnish the substantial
basis for the town's prosperity. The
pay-roll numbers several hundred
hands and the annual disbursements
for wages are more than S 100,000.
Captain Warren Xoyes, the superin-
tendent, has been connected with the

^JNriHl

•

Hon. Pearson G. Evans.

company from the first and was the
engineer of the first train that crossed
the Canadian border.

The railroad shops were the mag-
net about which the village clustered
and the extension of the road made
Gorham the center of travel to the
east side of the mountains and gave
to the village a supremacy in summer
resort matters that remained un-
broken until the completion of that
monumental engineering work, the

[ Lilt fr~T" = " ~f> "' if*

ff it J i 9 I j mf »

Opera House Boc-

240

GORHAM.

Glen Ellis Falls.

Portland and Ogdeusburg railroad,
and the opening of the railroad to the
summit of Mount Washington. Xot
only as a distributing point but as a
summer resort itself did Gorham win
renown. The tavern built by An-

<-' i -1

drew G. Lary on the Lancaster road
two years before the town was char-
tered had sheltered its quota of guests
each summer and the railroad com-
pany, with marked foresight, were at
work upon a summer hotel in the vil-
lage even before railroad communica-
tion was established. This house,
the Alpine, was open by the time the
railroad was, and for nearly twenty
years was a famous resort under the
management of John R. Hitchcock.

I • i

r- . * " '

ft ? < i :- -- «« r ..- 1

>c-K-\

rnrn-n '.i

The Cascade.

It was burned in 1S72 and was imme-
diately replaced by the present struct-
ure.

The opening of the railroad signal-
ized also the beginnings of what was
destined to be one of the most famous
mountain resorts on the continent —
the Glen House, the site of which is
about eight miles east from Gorham
at the head of the Peabody river val-
ley where the Carter and Presidential
ranges close in upon the Pinkham
Notch. From a small and cramped

GORHAM.

241

Grand Trunk Depot.

cottage the Glen House grew to a
huge caravansary, enlarged, im-
proved, and enlarged again, which
succumbing to fire, gave way to a
handsome modern house,
one of the finest in the
mountains, which was also
leveled by fire three years
ago and has not yet been
rebuilt. For years, or until
the building of the railroad
through the White Mountain
Notch, the main thorough-
fare to this princely resort
was via Gorham and the
volume of travel to the sum-
mit of Mount Washington
surged through this village and out
and up the valley of the Peabody
river to the Glen House and to the
carriage road which led to the loftv

crest. At the summit itself
Gorham was represented by
John R. Hitchcock who for
years was the manager of
the hotels there in the days
when shelter in a rude
stone hut, a narrow bed,
and coarse but appetizing
fare were the best that ele-
vation could boast, and be-
fore the puffing locomotive
had driven from their haunts
tiie spirits with whom the Indians
had peopled the cloud-capped cone.
Yet I must not dwell so constantly
on the past tense. What if the open-

**»*i®agm

- I h .

Bos-on &c Maire Dec;:.

Grand Trunk Shops.

ing of the Ogdensburg road has di-
verted mountain travel and the burn-
ing of the Glen House has put an end
to profit from that source ? Gorham
has proved itself independent
of those things and with its
railroad shops and its native
lumber business the village
thrives and increases. Its
noisy and more cosmopolitan
neighbor up the river is big-
ger, but it has no more of
the graces of life, its human-
ities are no more finely de-
veloped.

Gorham to-day is a fine and
healthy type of a New Eng-

242

GORHAM.

land village. It numbers
something like two thou-
sand souls who are com-
fortably housed and reg-
ularly employed.

Churches and schools
supply spiritual and in-
tellectual needs and crea-

ham is the publica-
tion of The Moun-
taineer which is one
of the best of coun-
try weeklies in New
England, and has
been held strictly up
to the high standard
set by its founder
and first editor, the
late V. V. Twitchell,
whose quiet and

Congregational Church.

Methodist Cnurch.

Universahst Church.

ture comforts and conveniences are
attended to by the modern improve-
ments which once were the sole
possession of urban communities but
which now are become the enjoyment
of the enterprising no matter where
their lot is cast.

Anions: the features of life in Gor-

j ......

Alpine House.

penetrating humor made The Moun-
taineer known and quoted in every
column of paragraphs in the East,
to keep within bounds, and whose
sterling honesty of opinion and clear
force of expression made its edi-
torial utterances felt and respected
among all his readers.

Mr. Twitchell is a fair ex-
ample of Gorham's profes-
sional men and in the other
walks of life this ornament
to journalism found his coun-
terpart. In the law he found
his brother, Gen. Albert S.
Twitchell, a brave scholar
and a true poet, a sound law-
yer and* a faithful public ser-
vant who as legislator and
consul has served his state
and nation well. In the law

GORHAM.

243

also are Hon. Alfred R. Evans,
now judge of probate for Coos
county, who has given his
"jealous mistress" no cause
for complaint ; and Jesse F.
Libby, recently solicitor for
Coos county, a young attor-
ney of much promise. In
medicine is Dr. Henry Mar-
ble whose practice covers all
the country-side and who has
been an active and liberal
factor in the developing of
the town's material interest
and who is not unknown in politics.
The clergy of the town have always
been a devoted, cultured band of

1 1 1

' i h

laffiHTrni : iWiir : !

fo~=;

The Lary Tavern.

"lady's twist" tobacco and coun-
terfeit money — smuggled at that —
played the chief parts, and in the

Christians, and among the wielders development of the resources of the

of the birch in Gorham Dr. X. T.
True may be placed at the head both
by virtue of his long service in the
intellectual arena as well as by his
varied capabilities as linguist, jour-
nalist, and historian.

Commerce in Gorham has always
had a narrow field. In
the early days there was r V-J*'>'*> -&*>
nothing beyond the "-^V^YE,-

merest barter, in which - .•£$. '"

place it was found that Nature re-
stricted enterprise to but one source
of material, the forest. This discov-
ery did not come, however, until after
considerable time, money, and effort
had been expended in the attempt to
develop other lines of industry than

i^^^.^^L^...-^ " ,:\- ;

SSSSlS : -ZM & ,■: *&a£a&

Some Gornann Residences.

those for which the environment of the
place rendered it most suitable. In this
respect Gorham is like almost every other
community in New England, and every
village can parallel its lost clothing and

244

GORHAM

t -*** as

v>;

-» >

/ \

;

t% »M p.

/ -

*.:

Alna B. Libby.
Charles C. Libby.

Walter C. Libby.
Eugene W. Libby.

fulling-mills, and more than one com-
munity can equal its experience in
search of precious metals.

The mining craze ran a swift race
in Gorham, and the attempt to make
a silver mine pay in the bowels of

Mount Hayes was a short and spir-
ited contest against overwhelming
odds which was undertaken some
fifteen years ago when the shaft of
the Mascot mine was sunk into a
vein of silver-bearing galena and ex-

GORHAM,

245

pensive machinery was installed to
reduce the ore. The plant is long
since abandoned, the machinery has
been taken away, the buildings are
falling in decay, and only a scar high
up on the steep mountain side behind

The forests which clothe the hills
surrounding Gorham have been made
a source of great profit, and the only
industry the town now sustains, aside
from the shops of the railroad, is
found iu the saw-mills which have
now all passed into the pos-
session of a single firm made
up of a single family, whose
mills are at the extreme ends
of the town and whose for-
ests encircle the village and
stretch up on the slopes of
the Presidential range.

Libby's Mills.

the village remains to tell the story of
the attempt to pervert nature.

But the riches which the bowels of
the mountain did not yield have been
found in abundance on the sun-lit
slopes, and, growing straight into
the air, men have secured what delv-
ing into the earth did not produce.

This firm, E. Libby &
Sons, is unique as present-
ing a larger number of ener-
getic men of the same blood
engaged in the same busi-
ness than is to be found
elsewhere in New England.
Their pay-roll is a large one
and embraces a dozen na-
tionalities, and their large
business has been developed from
small beginnings by the close and
careful and unremitting toil of each
member of the firm, and their suc-
cess is in no small measure due to
the scrupulous honest}' which has
characterized their every action.
Thus the "Addition" has out-

246

GORHAM.

•*>

A. R. Evans.

stripped the original grant. Tremen-
dous obstacles have been met and
overcome at almost every stage of
the town's development. The harsh
and forbidding character of the place with tfoetn the greatest names in the
when the first settler made his way community's annals are associated.

manency. I am sure it is not fancy
alone that leads me to trace this
parallel in studying- the growth of
this village whose few industries are
permanent and whose improvements
have been made conservatively with
a larger eye to the future than to the
present. For this reason Gorham
may enjoy the satisfaction of a proper
pride. Its mills and shops and stores,
its bank, its churches, its schools, its
enterprises, rest on a firm foundation.
Public morals are secure, and the
future ma}* be read in the lessons of
the past.

It will thus be seen that the basis
of Gorham' s prosperity is exception-
ally- secure, as solid, in fact, as the
granite hills which surround the town,
those Mils which first attracted atten-
tion to the town and whose influence
endureth forever.

To those hills Gorham owes its
greatest renown, and in connection

up the valley has been but little
changed so far as the natural as-
pect of things is concerned, and the
rugged and bony ridges still hem in
the constricted village plain. Yet
within those narrow limits has
been built up one of the most
thriving villages of New Eng-
land. Nothing less than the
sturdiest manhood was necessa-
ry to subdue such a well-nigh
hopeless wilderness, and this the
towns-people have always been
able to supply from the first.

Doubtless the place and its
inhabitants have always been
impressed by their environment,
and the inspiration of the eter-
nal hills about them could not
fail to teach the lesson of per-

Here Starr King spent several sea-
sons, amd here that charming book,
"The White Hills," was mainly
written. That lamented scholar and
preacher knew his Gorham well.

~ 3 -- . -

-» - rm-ZSt I - ■ <r -

vqponai

S2&&mm

^TtiiV.v aisrf/SUsi/'

Prospect Terrace.

APRIL DAYS.

i_- ..;..

Odd Fellows' Hal

Every one of its rugged ridges was a
familiar haunt to him, and he earned
the everlasting gratitude of the village
when he handed it down to fame :

"As a general thing Gorham is the
place to see the more rugged sculptur-
ing and the Titanic brawn of the hills.
Turning from Xorth Conway to the
Androscoggin valley is somewhat like
turning from a volume of Tennyson
to the pages of Carlyle ; from the mel-
odies of Don Giovanni to the surges
of the Ninth Symphony ; from the art
of Rafaello to that of Michael Angelo.
But nothing can be more graceful and
seductive than the flow of the lines of
Mount Moriah. . . . They do not
suggest an\- violent internal forces.

It should seem that they rose to mel-
od}', as when Amphion played his
l}-re and saw the stones move by
rythmic masonry to the place where
they were wanted. And the beauty
is the more effective by contrast with
the sternness and vigor of the lines of
Adams and Madison that can be seen
from the same point near the Andros-
coggin, where we suppose ourselves
to look at Mount Moriah. They are
Ebal, representing the terrors of the
law ; this is Gerizim, the hill of bless-
ing-. Or shall we not rather contrast
Mount Adams and Mount Moriah by
the aid of a charming sonnet of Per-
cival, which one might think had
been written at evening in full view
of these rivals in the landscape,
where the And
Mount Haves.

where the Androscoggin bends around

" Behold yon hills. The one is fresh and fair ;
The other rudely great. New-springing green
Mantles the one ; and on its top the star

Of love, in all its tenderest light, is seen.
Island of joys ! how sweet thy gentle rays
Issue from heaven's blue depths in even-
ing's prime,
But round yon bolder height no softness plays,
No flower nor bud adorns its front sublime.
Rtrde, but in majesty, it mounts in air,
And on its summit Jove in glory burns ;
"Mid all the stars that pour their radiant urns,
None with that lordly planet may compare.
Butsee, they move; and tinged with love's

own hue,
Beauty and Power embrace in heaven's se-
renest blue."

APRIL DAYS.

By Mary M. Currier.

Can trouble live with April da5 - s? — In Memoriam.

What songs is April bringing !
Bird-songs, brook-songs, breeze-songs, doth she bring.

I Ve little heart for singing,
But these are April days, and I must sing.

Up sorrow-steeps I ? m groping,
As up the hill the cautious green doth grope ;

And I mock myself for hoping ;
But these are April days, and I must hope.

ROENTGEN'S "X RAY" PHOTOGRAPHY

By Ensign Lloyd H. Chandler, U. S. N

ROB ABLY no discov-
er}- of the age has more
fully aroused public in-
terest than that recently
made by Roentgen, and
this interest on the part of the non-
scientific world probably arises from
three causes : First, from the fact that
so far as we now know an entirely
new force in nature has been brought
to light ; second, that the possibilities
of the discovery are apparently un-
limited ; and third, that the results
obtained are peculiarly uncanny and
unnatural, according to the hitherto

Hand cf Workingman, Snowing Buliet Imcedded in F

understood meaning of the latter
word.

If a hollow glass tube or bulb have
two electrodes or wires running into
it for a short distance and then end-
ing at different points, the interior of
the tube being in a high state of
vacuum, and if a high potential cur-
rent be sent through the wire, a pe-
culiar light seems to flow along the
inside of the glass from the end of one
electrode to the end of the other, and
if a photographic plate enclosed se-
curely in the plate holder be held
near the tube for a short time, the
plate will be affected as
though it had been ex-
posed to ordinary light.
This effect cannot be due
to the peculiar light in the
tube already referred to,
for this light is completely
shut off by a cover of the
plate holder, so it is evi-
dent that some agent or
force emanates from the
tube which gives the re-
sults already observed
without becoming visible
to the naked eye. Al-
though not visible to the
eye these rays will cause
certain fluorescent sub-
stances to light up as
when exposed to ordinary
light, and such substances
_J will be so affected if en-
1# closed in a light-tight

ROENTGEN'S li X RAY" PHOTOGRAPHY.

•'49

wooden box and held near the
excited tube, thus showing that
the X rays are not stopped by
wood.

For lack of a better name
Roentgen spoke of this power
as proceeding from "X rays."
The photographs accompanying
this article were taken by Prof.
N. M. Terry] A. M., Ph. D.,
Head of Department of Phys-
ics, U. S. Naval Academy, in
the physical laboratory at that
place, the current used being
supplied by a storage battery
and raised to a high voltage by
the use of an ordinary induc-
tion coil. A rapid "make and
break ' ' was used in the prima-
ry circuit.

The X rays are found to pass
through various substances with
more or less ease according: to

-i

Male Hand — Exposure I 1-2 Hours.

Female Hand — Expocure 3 4 Hour.

the nature of the substance,
although the laws governing
this have not yet been dis-
covered, except that organic
material is generally more
easily penetrated than inor-
ganic, aluminum being an
exception to this rule. One
of our pictures shows the re-
sult of an experiment to find
the relative permeability of
various objects. The bodies
shown were simply laid on
top of a plate holder contain-
ing a common plate, the
whole placed on a table, a
tube suspended a few inches
above the centre, and the cur-
rent turned on. After sufficient
exposure, about two hours,
the plate was developed by
the usual means, with the re-
sults shown. The darkest ob-

2 5

ROENTGEN'S "X RAY" PHOTOGRAPHY,

j^i»^r^' r: > "i "

( . n

\g ''

i b

}

Plate Snowing Permeability of Various Objects by X Rays.

i. Rock salt — .6 inch thick.

2. Quartz — .45 inch.

3. Verre trempe — .4 inch.

4. Glass — 18 millimetres.

5. Chalk, blackboard crayon.

6. Spath.

7. Mica.

8. Glass.

9. One thickness aluminum foil.
10. Two thicknesses aluminum foil.

11. Three thicknesses aluminum foi

12. Four thicknesses aluminum foil.

13. One thickness platinum foil.

14. Tourmaline (perpendicular).

15. Ararjonite.

16. Tourmaline.

17. Tin foil, 1, 2. 3 sheets thick.
iS. Insulated wire.

19. Electric light carbon."

20. Glass — .}2 inch.

21. Alum — .4 inch.

22. Coal — .42 inch.

23. Beeswax — .4 inch.

24. One cent in leather purse.

25. Key m same.

26. Wood — .2 inch.

27. Ebonite — .25 inch.

28. Oil in ebonite jar.

29. Flat metal key.

2 » 3» 6, 7, S, 14, 15, 16 are all surroundad by cork discs, tha faint shadow of which shows in each case.

LIGHT OF GOLD,

251

jects are the ones through which the
rays penetrated the least and vice
versa. The key and cent in the cor-
ner were inside a leather pocket-book,
the rays penetrating the leather but
not the objects within. Such pict-
ures are of course nothing but shad-
ows, and as yet no way lias been dis-
covered of focussing or reflecting the
ra}\s so as to obtain a finished photo-
graph in the common acceptation of
the term, the results obtained having
been frequently spoken of as ' ' shad-
owgraphs." As the X rays penetrate
the slide of the plate holder while or-
dinary light rays do not, the opera-
tion may of course be conducted in
open daylight.

The fact that has most srreatlv

aroused public" curiosity in the process
is that the rays penetrate flesh easily
but are stopped by bone, thus render-
ing it possible to photograph parts of
the skeleton in the living body.
Three such plates are shown : a ma?le
hand in which the rays have even
penetrated between the ends of the
bones at the joints ; a female hand in
which the exposure was short enough
to leave the outline of the flesh show-
ing ; and a workman's hand showing
the position of a bullet embedded in
the flesh.

Ordinary photography was not per-
fected in a day, and if future develop-
ments with the X rays keep pace with
those of the past two months who can
sav what the results may be ?

--K

Jk.V '

v^;^- ■'. -}-.:-:

0#$r\ \ V If

by w. 1* rcaa

FIRST curtain had
fallen. The fiddles

A short young man stood smoking
in the lobbv. That merrv face could

were scraping away on belong only to Peverly, of 36 Ex-

Cj&> the interlude, and the crowd change, the cleverest broker that ever

- was breaking up into chatter- dabbled in stocks. A smile always

ing groups or seeking a sniff of outer shone in his blue eyes, and his lips

air and a cocktail. never opened save for a cheery word.

2S2

LIGHT OF GOLD.

"Hello, old man!" exclaimed a
voice behind him, and somebody
slapped him chumniily on the shoul-
der.

"Ah, Morris, on hand as usual!
Never skipped a first-night in your
life, did you?"

Morris laughed. " Xo, but I wish
I had escaped some. This is pretty
fair, though, do n't you think?" and
he took a cigar from the case Peverly
held out to him.

"Yes," said Peverly. "La Rita
has quite turned my head with those
bewitching poses of hers. She 's dar-
ing though ! And she looks sweeter
than ever, to-night."

"I say, Pev," remarked Morris,
touching a match to the long-five
between his teeth, "you're going to
join us at the Colonial Christinas
night? Half a dozen of us — Ritchie,
Wells, Bradford, Torrey — our crowd,
you know. Back dining-room — door
sealed — unlimited hours, and all the
rest. There '11 be fun enough to go
around," and Morris laughed gaily,
and gave Peverly another slap on the
back.

" You '11 find me there, sure," said
Peverly, sending a curl of smoke out-
ward. " Do n't run scant on cognac,
and tell Brant to have the turkey-
breasts well browned."

"He knows his bis.," affirmed
Morris. "By the way, did you
notice the girl with the Williamses ?
No ? Well, throw your glass that
way when you go in — upper- right
box. So long," and he turned
away.

A tall fellow with a fierce black
moustache sauntered up. "Make
the most of that cigar, Peverly. I
suppose you '11 swear off all your
bad habits at New Year's. It 's com-

ing fast, my boy, — only a week to
Christmas."

" Wish I could break away from
the weed, Ritchie. It costs me a
mint of money for cigars and pipes.
We don't live but once, though,"
he added jocularly, as he threw
down his Havana before following
the other into the parquet.

When the last act had been rung
out and the hacks were filling, Pev-
erly and Ritchie walked home to-
gether. Before they parted at the
door, of the up-town flats where the
tall chap had his bachelor quarters,
he said, " Be ready for a jolly time
at the Colonial, old man."

Only a week to Christmas, thought
Peverly, as he passed up the mail
under the glistening elms. Then
glad chimes would turn the frosty
air to silver. Only a week, and he
would be in bliss, if brimming cham-
pagne cups could effect it.

The two ideas were strangely con-
trasted. Spire bells and midnight
revels do not often abide together.
But at one time the former had oc-
cupied generous room in Peverly 's
heart. Even now, they would throb
out once in a while in the old way
and set his soul to echoing with a
forgotten melody.

After all, what if he did enjoy him-
self one night ? He had been a Pur-
itan for a whole week, — had forsworn
suppers entirely, tripped but a single
dance, and been in bed by midnight.
What, then, if he should choose to
look into the sparkling depths of
ruby glasses instead of listening to a
stereotyped sermon on the Nativity
and watching the candles of the pro-
cessional wind slowly around the
ivied altar ? There was but one life
for the living, and he was not the

LIGHT OF GOLD.

253

fool to throttle the pleasures that
came running up to him. There
would be plenty of penance to pay by
and by, he told himself.

II.

A gay knot was that in the cosy
smoking-room at the club. Pool
and poker had been discarded, and
now, close to midnight, a few con-
vivial chaps had withdrawn to the
comfortable chairs for a chat before
sleep.

Rose, the dapper bank clerk, was
airing himself on the play of the
night before. " It might have been
good," he was saying, "but, you
see, I don't know. Right behind
me, two of the tender persuasion were
busy swapping receipts for mince-
pie, egg-cakes, apple-dowdy, and
everything else eatable. Let 's see,
for parsnip-fritters, you want to boil
the parsnips till you can stick yonr
finger through 'em, mash 'em, put in
some butter and pepper, an egg or
two, and a couple of spoonfuls of
flour for every — "

"Oh, cut it off," exclaimed Pev-
erly.

" Well," resumed Rose, " anyhow,
when Clarisse had been assassinated
in the back and was offering her
dying prayer to the stars, these two
females were trying hard to keep
moths out of Turkish rugs and grand-
mothers' shawls. I 've no doubt Clar-
isse was stabbed properly, and gave
up the ghost according to Hoyle, but
I can't swear to it. Why don't they
have a first-night for us fellows
alone ? " And Rose sighed sadly.

"It was a tip-top thing," put in
Pettee, shifting his cigar. "I en-
joyed it immensely, except where the
wife tells George to depart from her

sight and mail her a divorce, and
then they both stand dumb a minute
or two, to make it impressive and
leave an opening for paper bouquets.
You know how still it was? Well,
just at that point an ambitious young
wasp, or something, started to climb
tip my leg — no, not outside my trou-
sers. I let him climb till he got
where I could reach him, and then
I smote him like Samson did the
Philistines. But I tell you I was
nervous while he was making the
trip."

" I guess Nasby got the most
sport out of it," observed Peverly.
"' They tell me he was in the wings
all through, and took La Rita to
dine afterwards."

Somebody else started to speak,
when in came Nasby. He was the
easy-tongued young man whose dash
and frankness captivated even his
creditors. But to-night he did not
sing out merrily.

"Been to your own funeral,
Nasby?" called out Ritchie. "Or
did La Rita give you the shake? "

Nasby was warming his hands on
the radiator. His eyes were down.
"Fellows, I never was so broken up
in my life," he declared, as he drew
a chair into the circle.

" Break it to us easy, old man,"
advised Peverly, and there was a
humorous sarcasm in his tone.
"Do n't make the shock too severe,
after all the levity that has just been
let loose. If it's likely to bring tears,
you 'd better put it off till some Sun-
day."

Nasby's face took on extra shadow.
"To begin with," he said slowly,
" an old woman fell down stairs in
the 'Hive,' over on Spruce street,
about an hour ago. I was just com-

254

LIGHT OF GOLD.

ing by, and a cop called me in to thought I ought not to hang 'around

help him get her up. She was pretty any longer, and I started to go, but

solid, and had fallen clear from the some way I came back. And, do

top, and she didn't know anything you know, fellows, the cop, the doc-

when we laid her on a bed in the tor, and — all three of us took off our

next room. She came to after the hats."

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^M%\\\

■'I'll

WM////I ; m\

lRi i m 1

Iff IL

f'i

tfjM.f Ml

Mii^s^-. .•. ;T : , > l >:r';'!

TJUF

doctor got there, but he said her
head and back were hurt so that she
couldn't live. She moaned a s:ood
deal, as though she was in great
pain.

"Just then a young fellow — about
your size, Peverly — came running in,
and threw himself down beside the
bed. The old woman reached out
and felt for his hand. I rather

Here Nasby had to cough a sud-
den hoarseness out of his throat. He
began again. " She got hold of the
lad's fingers. ' Tim,' she whispered,
'I 'm going. I hate to leave yer
alone, but I 'v got to go. Tim, my
boy, won't you promise your poor
old mother that yer '11 stop your
carousin' ? O Tim, Tim, you don't
know you 've made my poor heart

LIGHT OF GOLD.

255

bleed ! Won't you please me this
once? Say yes, Tim, say yes ! ' "

"Of course I can't get the brogue,
but you can think I do. His head
was in the pillow. He sobbed, ' Yes,
mother, I swear it.' 'Bless ye, my
boy,' she said, 'you always had an
honest heart.' She groped in the
air. 'I'm goin', Tim, and it's so
dark ! ' Then she rose a little. ' No,
no ! The glory — so bright, so bright !
Look, Tim, look ! ' and she pointed
before her. ' I can see it — the light
o' gold ! ' She fell back, and was
gone."

Xasby stopped. Everybody was
silent. Rose looked absently at the
filigree on the mantel. Pattee ner-
vously chewed his cigar, which had
lost its red. Ritchie was eyeing the
tiles of the floor very intently.

"Funny how little things like that
will affect a fellow," added Xasby.
"When I left the place I was all of
a tremble, and had to gulp down a
couple of cocktails to straighten my-
self out. Now don't laugh at me,

V-

A in

Peverly." But the chair beside him
was empty, Peverly had stolen away
from the group, and was settled out
of sight in a deep chair within a far
corner of the billiard hall.

They did not feel like disturbing
him. Rose and Ritchie toyed a few
minutes with the balls on the green
cloth, and then went home with the
others.

But Peverly, of 36 Exchange, sat
looking out over the square through
eyes that were hazy. A few flakes
fluttered down in the bright circles
of the arc lights. He saw them, and
yet he was not sure they were snow.
Peverly was talking with his heart.

" Light o' gold ! Light o' gold ! "
He said it man}' times. Pie had
heard it before. It was years ago, —
ten. he thought, — and on just such
a night as this. The old farmhouse
was in a hush, but the measured
swing of the tall clock came in from
the kitchen with solemn distinctness
and broke the weird stillness in the
bedroom. He could see her as she
lay in the stupor that foretold death.
Then she had roused and held out
her arms for him. And the lad of
eighteen had tiptoed to the bedside
and kneeled to feel her hand stray-
ing wistfully over his curly head,
and hear her say faintly, "Good by,
Ned. I am going to leave you. You
have always been good to me, my
son, and I want you to promise me
that, after I am gone, you will stay
true to me and to yourself." And
he had promised, with the tremor of
grief in his heart and throat. "I
must go, Xed, but I shall still think
of you."

She had kissed his forehead, and
he had noticed that her lips were
growing cold. Then she had stirred

2.S6

LIGHT OF GOLD.

as though to rise, and her eyes were
happy as she murmured, "Oh, how
bright, — bright ! Light of gold !
Light of gold ! ' ' Aud her heart
had stopped, and he was sobbing
over his first great loss.

She would think of him ! He
knew this night's snow was heaping
upon the hillside miles away where
he had left her sleeping. Yet he
seemed to see two tender eyes, blue
and pure, looking in at him with
longing from the flakes that were
eddying past the pane.

Tim had made a vow. Would he
cling to it ? And then it flashed
through his mind — had he, Peverly,
of 36 Exchange, been faithful ? Only
five days, and the ring of sweet
chimes and the chant of clear young
voices would find him — not under the
tapers clustered about the carven pil-
lars and glittering in the evergreen
of the high arches, but rather where
glasses tinkled to hilarious song.
And that kindly face would be
-watching him — that mother heart
would be mindful of him !

When Peverly shut the door of the
club behind him and set off across
the powdery square the mist in his
eyes was deeper.

III.

The noon express was rushing
north, and Peverly sat gazing out on
the drifted fields, gleaming with a
fitful sun.

He had told Morris that he could
not be at the Colonial, and here he
was, on Christmas day, speeding
away from the city toward a hamlet
far up in the Xew Hampshire hills.

In mid afternoon he was put down
on the platform of a small station a
hundred miles from the club. He

did not tarry to notice the surround-
ings, but drawing his hat over his
eyes and turning up the collar of his
ulster, he struck off along the one
road. As the snow crunched beneath
his feet and he felt the fresh air ting-
ing his cheeks with ruddy color, all
thought of town vanished.

There, over the low wall, he could
spy the pond where he used to wade
for lilies in the summer, and fasten
on his rockers winter days after
schooL It was covered with snow
now. but somebody had commenced
to clear a space in the middle, just as
he and his chums had often done.
A little further was the clump of
aged willows where he had cut so
many whistles. The single dwelling
on the road looked as of old, only the
shed between house and barn had
not been when he was a boy. He
wondered if Squire Parks lived there
now.

A few rods beyond he came to the
stile. The steps were the same, four
of them, and the lowest wider than
the rest. At the top of the rise he
could see the white stones glistening
in the slant of western light.

He went up the lane, and his
patent leathers were covered by the
untrodden snow. But he did not
notice. In through the iron gate he
passed, and down in the corner,
between the rail fence and the strag-
gling wall, he found it.

The hemlock in the angle was still
singing its old-time song of sadness.
On the lower bough swung a nest.
It might be the one that had hung
there so many seasons ago. Blithe
voices floated up from the valley, and
he saw sleds darting down the back
road. All was painfully familiar.

He stood silent, hat in hand, and

LIGHT OF GOLD.

257

looked down at the grave. It was
only a heap of snow, but it was very
dear to him now. She was so lonely
here, and he had been so far away
from her all these years. For a while
he was calm. Then the tears came.
He sunk on the edge of the mound,
and his face found support in his
hands. "Mother, dear mother," he
said huskily, and gave way to his
grief. How long he sat with the
drops trickling between his fingers,
he knew not. A snow bird hopped
up by his side and peered curiously
at the still figure.

When at last he unlocked his
hands and looked up, the sun was
rolling over the horizon. A bank of
thick cloud had hidden its face, but
it lifted now, and as the great sphere
paused a bit on the verge of night, it
gleamed out on heaven and earth in
open glory.

Peverly started to his feet, and
stretched out his arms. "The light
of gold! " he cried, and hope shone
through the moisture in his eyes.

He stooped, and dug away the
snow with his bare finders till he
came to a vine curled snugly over
the hard sod. He broke off a piece.

Then he arose and moved away.
At the top of the slope he lingered
for a last glance. The light had
faded into sad gray. A hopeless
wind crept up and pulled at his
sleeve for him to go with it for com-
pany's sake. Everything was so
drear and lonely, and there might
not be any stars. He rushed back,
and bowed down in another outburst
of sorrow.

The back dining-room of the Colo-
nial was gay with glittering lights
aod fragrant flowers, as Morris rose
at the head of the table, and cried,
" All up for a health to Ned Peverly,
the right good fellow whom the fates
kept away from us to-night! " And
the glasses flashed.

At that moment, Peverly, of 36
Kxehange, alighted in the city sta-
tion with peace in his eyes and a
sprig of ivy vine over his heart. As
he stepped out upon the street, mel-
low bells were bursting all around
beneath a sky that twinkled, and
they were sweet in his ears.

He looked up to a great gold star,
and smiled. His heart knew what
he was thinking-.

t-^f^m^-T^^.^^^*

i <„s

'-_

.-;--%-■: :■

THE LEGEND OF JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE.

[continued.]
_ By E. P. Tenncy.
CHAPTER XIX.

TT7TTH wakeful conscience, next
y y morning, John Levin went to
the jail to call on Raymond
Foote, for the first time since he had
caused his incarceration, for private
reasons although ostensibly upon pub-
lic grounds.

The sun ran high before he reached
his destination, and the still air upon
the marshes was sharp-toothed with
gnats. After spending an hour with
Captain Sparrow, and two hours in
watching the oarsmen warp the
Haivley into the middle of the chan-
nel, where she could take advantage
of the earliest puff of wind, it was
high noon before Lawyer Levin bade
his great mastiff, Togue, lie down
under the lilac shade at the easterly
side of the jail door. Whatever
moral sensibility he took with him
in the morning had suffered not a
little by the twisting of his thoughts
this way and that, like a privateer
wriggling for wind.

With a dim consciousness of cer-
tain peccadillos, when he contrasted
himself with Mary Glasse, the most
part of his daily business was at such
a remove from the life of an inexpe-
rienced girl that he imagined himself
to have little occasion to ask what
she would think of his hourly tran-
sactions, in which he was as uncon-
scious of wrong doing as that cloud
of animated fuzz upon the wing

which he encountered upon the
marshes.

Since the day upon which he had
conjured up a rheumatic elbow, and
consulted officially that man-gossip,
Doctor Jay, just long enough to
worm out of him all that he knew
about Raymond Foote' s former ac-
quaintance with Mary, and the great
expectations the old women had of a
matcn between them, John Levin had
been haunted by a spirit of jealous}'.
Knowing therefore within himself,
upon this second day of August,
that he had been unkind to Ray-
mond who had been his child-chum
in college, whom he tutored as a lit-
tle fellow, and unjust to him who
had been so recently his leader in
a mercantile adventure of great
profit. — how could he do otherwise
than hate him whom he had wronged,
for the mere reason that he had
already- wronged him ?

"Still," thought John Levin, "I
will lay aside all feeling, like a
Christian, and go and visit him
while he is in prison. The visiting
of prisoners is always meritorious.
It will be pleasing, doubtless, to

Mary."

Mary, to be sure, had never said a
word to John about Raymond ; not
being certain that it would really
befriend the prisoner to speak of him,
and she was also silent because she

LEGEND OF JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE.

259

had no hope to handle John Levin
by quarreling with him. Nor had
John ever yet mentioned him to
Mary. Why should he ? \* It will,
therefore, be a pleasant surprise to
Mary," reasoned Levin, "if, of my
own free notion, I befriend the im-
prisoned minister. It will, indeed."

"It is fortunate," thought Levin,
"that I am the older. And I will
receive him into 1113- charge, as I
did when he was six years old. He
needs looking after. He a plain
man, too lenient for life's battle. He
believes that the sinfulness of soci-
ety is overestimated, that men — out-
side himself — are little capable of
wrong. This unsuspicious youth is
liable to be imposed upon, unless
I take him in hand in a disinterested
way."

Doubtless this guardianship ought
to extend to possible relations of the
prisoner to Mary Glasse, else Mary
might be led away from the great
destiny in store for her. It behooved
the guardian, therefore, to find out
their exact relations, — as he un-
doubtedly could with his usual suav-
ity. Never rude in his manner, with
a face upon which he could easily
stamp sincerity, never failing to use
the language of a gentleman, with
that well-bred courtesy which is
magnetic, that self-restraint which is
always a power, — who could with-
stand John Levin if he set out to
obtain information or win a point ?

He found his old chum in a jolly
mood, — " How are you to-day? "

"Patient as an anvil, — answering
blows by music."

" I would that I could have been
here to share your merriment. - I
just heard, upon my return from
England, that your gallant love of

liberty had incensed the governor ;
and I hardly went to my office, in
my haste to see you. His majesty
I am sure has no idea of it. What
right, I would like to know, had the
chief justice to deny you the privi-
lege of habeas corpus. If you are so
minded, I will straightway sue him
for damages in your behalf. You
can make him pay roundly for it.
Shall I do it? "

" ' Sue him ? ■ Certainly. ' England ? '
Certainly not. I Ye known you, John,
too long, not to know with how many
grains of salt to take your words.
' England ' needs salting. But you
are just as welcome to the jail as if
you 'd always been here for telling
the truth."

"Just so. Just so. But what are
you doing with this manuscript ? "

" I am defending our democratic
church government ; and the reason-
ing applies just as well to the state."

"To tell the truth, Raymond, — and
you know me well enough to discern
that I am now speaking upon my
honor, — I could not venture to see
you, lest I seem to my client, the
governor, to be disloyal. For you
know that you have displeased the
king."

" Not the king, my craven friend.
We have the royal charter that a tax
is not legal unless the general assem-
bly concurs with the governor and
council. The governor's penny on a
pound is arbitrary. It is in violation
of our rights as Englishmen."

" But obedience makes govern-
ment, you must obey the king's rep-
resentative."

"Nay, let him obey the mind of
the king in the charter."

" You are a brave man, Raymond,
I would that I were less a coward as

26o

LEGEND OF JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE.

to our vested rights, but you know-
that I have not been long in the col-
ony since I was a boy. I must learn
from you to become a patriot, and a
martyr if needs be. For I notice
that the noise of the wide ocean beat-
ing upon the American continent
makes you deaf to an insular king."

11 Bravely said, chum. If, as some
say, royalty be venerable, is not free-
dom the older ?

" But remember, chum, that the
king is very strong, and that you
have offended him. I know not
what the end will be, but I swear,
by the ten thousand leagues of ocean
you and I have sailed together, that
I will always stand by you, even if
your course does not accord with my
judgment. All you need to do is to
leave yourself in the hands of your
friends. How well I remember, when,
half alive, you and I crawled up the
ragged rocks together to escape the
clutch of the surf. I then swore
eternal friendship to you, if we
should ever be saved. And you shall
see how I will befriend you."

Nor did John Levin cea^e to gush
until after they had finished the ale
and pot-pie, which he had ordered
Hodgman to make ready for them.
As the time drew near for him to go,
Levin saw that Foote had somewhat
to say.

" What is it, brother? Speak on."

"One thing I've been wanting to
say to you, John, since I 've been
here and had time to reflect. I do
not know whether your conscience is
so accusing as mine, but I fear that I
led you into divers temptations when
we were at sea together, and I much
regret it."

" I do not recollect it," replied the
old sinner, who did, however, remem-

ber that he had often pretended to
Raymond to be shocked at his occa-
sional frolics when on shore in for-
eign ports.

The scrupulous minister of the
Chebacco parish had never done any-
thing out of the way at sea, unless
mild profanities and a morbid fond-
ness for rows be reckoned irregular
in a seaman who was of sober habit
and chaste. But he failed not to
make a clean breast in confessing the
sins of his youth, and in setting forth
the satisfaction he had taken in his
amendment. He thought that he
oug>ht to tell John so much as this, as
an offset to the damage he must have
done him by what he called his moral
recklessness in earlier years.

How could John but chuckle to him-
self at the fun of the thing — this rela-
tively guileless youth confessing to the
sensmous sinner. He answered with
carefully studied intonation, a sad-
dened face, and appropriate gesticu-
lation :

" I iear, Raymond, that there comes
a time in too many of our lives when
a vonnor man thinks it is not needful
for him to fulfil the high ideal of his
earlier years. I am not unconscious
of having dropped my standard and
become too contented with mean at-
tainments." John Levin now slowly
arose, as if in pain; and he clutched
his dark hand about his close-cut
raven, hair, as if his head was turn-
ing. And he wore a look of dull
agony ; and he writhed a little. Then
he added solemnly, — " Yes, Raymond,
it is a matter of pain that an ambi-
tious person should be pacified in
spirit with a mere animal life ; but
self-indulgence sooner or later leads
to self-abhorrence, and finally to self-
improvement. It is like setting our

LEGEND OF JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE.

'Ol

humors free, in order to be done with
them forever."

"Alas, John, I fear that I shall
never free myself. I am the vile
slave of vile affections ; and my spir-
itual powers must suffer fight till I
am out of the body."

"Ah, Raymond," replied Levin, in
a voice not without pathos, and with
an impressive manner, "my eccle-
siastical studies of former years,
which I sometimes indulge in even
now, have satisfied me that the early
church was very corrupt, more so in
some respects, I believe, than the
papal, which in its turn was worse
than that of England. But then the
elder world, — Rome, Egypt, Babylon,
— was infinitely worse than the early
church. In fact mankind is a brute,
and the angelic life and character is
but slow in unfolding. We are in
celestial lines, if we have the germs
of new life ; yet we are, for the most
part, animals still, even brutal at
times, nor can we, in this life, rise
above our state." Then John Levin
turned suddenly pale. And he
added, slowly, — "The Infinite Mind
does not look for it that we free
ourselves from bestiality absolutely,
unless indeed by help out of heav-
en."

If John Levin was shamming in all
that he said it would have been im-
possible to detect it. He probably
intermingled more or less candor of
statement with that which was delib-
erately said with an intent to deceive ;
perhaps he did it to win evidence,
that he might the more surely gain
the end he sought.

"But why do we talk about this,
Raymond?" he asked; and quiekly
turned the subject to the Canada ex-
pedition, which would perhaps be set

on foot in the event of war with
France.

He then hurriedly departed, but
turned back. — " Oh, by the way, why
did you not tell me that you had con-
ditionally engaged yourself to marry
Mary Glasse, in case I change my
mind and leave her free to do as she
will?"

The prisoner instantly changed
color by rising tide of hot blood.
John Levin saw it and took his de-
cision. His chance question was a
hit. " Excuse me, Raymond, for my
inquiring so bluntly," he added, in
a kind, friendly tone. " I did it for a
Joke. I did not know that you really
feved Man*, although I had some-
times suspected it. I shall never
st'diid in 3*our way, you know."

Raymond, blushing, had no time
to reply. Levin had gone. And the
prisoner, in looking out at the
pinched up window, could see that
the verge of the sea was growing
black with the falling night.

CHAPTER XX.

The next day, as John Levin sat in
his office the widow Adipose called
upon him.

He had been studying theology,
with knit brow, making the most of a
foggy day by trying to find daylight
in Calvin's Institutes. Having spent
half the night with the Greek poets,
and regaled his morning with the
church fathers, his present attack on
the huge folios of Calvin was almost
as restful to him as one of Dr. Ham-
mersmith's sermons.

John Levin, who looked upon
himself as no unimportant expres-
sion of the creative energy of this
universe, had awaked this morn-
ing with an uncommon sensation, —

262 LEGEND OF JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE,

fancying that he had within himself
two antagonistic forces, as if torn
apart by the finite and the infinite.
But he received a complete set-back
when he encountered John Calvin's
' ' corruption," "propensity," ''bias,"
and other hard words, and the gen-
eral belief that a being with one foot
upon this earth and the other in the
realm of spirits, tends to do wrong
1 ' voluntarily, ' ' — in which his ' ' will ' '
renders the man ''inexcusable."
John Levin whistled and shut the
book.

" It is a vital mistake," he said, " to
distinguish between good and evil.
No one who does it can maintain
sympathy with the current life of the
universe, or play his part in the limit-
less harmony."

After whistling till he blew the
taste of John Calvin's words out of
his mouth, he added, — " I must take
myself for better or for worse,
whether for one world or two. I
know no other life than that of me-
chanical action, the result of good
living and the exercise of faculties.
Daring, devotion, patriotism, benev-
olence, piety, are only the exquisite
flowers which spring out of well-di-
gested beef and Indian corn."

If a stranger had just then looked
in upon John Levin, as he sat there
in his office, whistling and muttering
to himself, with his chair tipped back
upon its hind legs, and with his right
foot upon his left knee, with his
hands clasped behind his head, and
with John Calvin starting from his
binding by his heavy fall to the floor,
the stranger would have said that any
virtue this cool-blooded animal was
possessed of at the time was owing
solely to lack of present temptation,
— that he was liable to be caught by

the next whirl of passion which
should drift across his mind.

After Levin had closed his eyes
and dozed, he came to himself with a
sticky sense of dog day discomfort
and of annoyance with flies. Having
yawned, he cast his weather eye
toward the open door and saw the
widow Angelica.

With what conquerable aversion
he beheld her. As she did not look
so far advanced in age as she was, his
first thought was to have a little fun
with the old lady.

" Is not sport," he said to himself,
' ' the blossom of sound physical
powers ? I have already exhausted
my intellect on theology ; here is
company not likely to vex me — if she
does not stay long."

He looked at the female. There
she stood, somewhat wilted; having
mysteriously appeared out of the thin
fog, like a bedraggled and perspiring
Venus, rising from a misty meadow.
If she was untidy, she was dressy.
Her low-cut neck displayed a profu-
sion of jewelry, — the most conspic-
uous shiny ornament being Madam
Levin's Church-of-England gift. As
Angelica came to a stand still in the
open doorway, she daintily wafted
back and forth a great gorgeous
feather fan ; and she did it with two
fingers and a thumb so as to display
the silver handle.

John Levin was first of all a keen
business man, and he kept no client
waiting : " Sit down, prithee. What
brought you hither ? ' '

"I have come," said the gaudy
widow, "upon a strange errand. I
want you to draw my will. I
dreamed last night that I was about
to die, and it frightened me."

"You do not look alarmed," an-

LEGEND OF JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE.

263

swered Levin, gazing steadily into
Angelica's face. " It could not have
been so bad as that."

" No, it was not. To tell the truth,
I dreamed that you were about to
marry me. That is, as a magistrate
you know. And as for marrying, I
should as soon die. But you know,
if I marry, there will be legal points
as to property, so I want to talk with
a lawyer. You know that I have five
thousand pounds."

"Indeed," replied Levin with evi-
dent interest. "I did not know it.
It behooves you then to make your
will, and to avoid matrimony as you
would death."

Mr. Levin drew his pen out of its
eel skin, and took down his ink hern.

"You look lonely, 'Squire. I can
help 3'ou kill time happily."

" Please change your seat, Madam.
Take that easy chair in the corner.
You are in my light where you sit
now."

By this arrangement, the widow
sat behind the lawyer's back ; he be-
ing seated at his table to write, facing
the open door.

"But you know I do not want to
talk very loud when I tell you about
my money."

"Please whisper, then; I am not
deaf."

John Levin at this point happened
to recall that this was the same wo-
man his mother had talked to him
about.

" If my mother soberly wants me
to marry this idiot, I ought to train
her."

Taking a pistol out of his drawer,
he discharged it as quietly as he
could, in order to tone up Angelica's
nerves, and to steady her mind for
business.

" You know how I got my money
don't you? Oh! Oh! Have you
killed yourself?" And the widow
rushed up and frantically seized the
lawyer's pulse.

" Sit down, Madam. You must
excuse me if I shoot a squirrel now
and then, when one chippers on that
branch by the upper sash. How
much money did you say you had to
devise ? A thousand pounds ? ' '

" Five, five, five, even- penny of
five!"

£t And you wish to devise it?"

" No, I want to advise with you
about it. I want to give it away if I
die, and fix it so I can save it if I
marry. But let me read to you dear
Joiro — Mr. Levin, I mean — a little of
my poetry first. It is short. Will
you? It is my will in rhyme." And
the widow rushed out of her corner
once more.

''Madam, if you have already
made your will, you need no help
from me," said Mr. Levin, rising
with o^reat dignity.

o o

c * But I want you to advise me."

"Please sit down, then."

After seating herself again, the
widow wriggled her chair forward,
until she was about three feet behind
John Levin's elbow, as he sat at his
table, wiping his dry pen.

' ; To whom do you wish to give the
money ? ' '

""To my lovers," answered Angel-
ica with a sigh.

" Please name them in their proper
order."

"Well, I want to give all the
money to you ; and then out of it I
want to take some for the others, —
how much, depending more or less
on. the prospect, — that is — that is —
well, I do n't know just how to fix it.

264

A QUESTION

I don't want to lose my money, and
I don't want to give it away — unless
it will do some good — if I conclude to
inarry."

" That is commendable. The way
you suggest is a good one. — ' I, An-
gelica Adipose, of Salem Village.'
That 's where you live, is n't it ? "

" But I 'am going to live in Boston
when I am married."

11 I 've written down all the formal
part at the beginning, v.e will read it
later. Xow — ' I give and bequeath
to my lawyer John Levin five thou-
sand pounds for such lovers as I may
die possessed of.' Is that what you
mean ? ' '

-* Xot exactly," replied Angelica,
with a puzzled look, and rising to
peer over Levin's shoulder, with her
face very clcse to his.

"Please keep your seat, Madam, I
can't write unless you do."

" Please then do n't call me Madam."

" What shall I say?"

"Call me Angelica, or Angelica
my dear, — that is. if I give you the
money — in trust you know. You
don't know how much I trust you,
John, my dear, — Mr. Levin, I mean
— in giving you all my money for
such purposes as will best promote
my happiness."

And the widow sat down somewhat

heavily, with a sigh. The weak-
kneed chair creaked with her weight,
as she ruthlessly dropped, utterly
overcome by her emotions.

At this juncture Elder Perkins and
the fat and jolly Farmer Ross entered
the door.

"No, I will not stop," said the
Elder, " I see that you are engaged."

" Xo, he is not engaged to me, not
now, not yet," exclaimed the widow
passionately, drying her red eyes with
a nor' nor' west and sou' sou' east
breeze from her fan. " Do sit down.
It won't disturb me one bit. For you
ought to know I am making my last
will. Don't you know I'm afraid I
ma}' die."

" You do n't look like it, widder,"
said Ross.

"Gentlemen, you have come in
very opportunely," said Levin with a
wink, "I wish to introduce you to
my fair client and beloved friend,
Mistress Angelica Adipose, who is
about to be married. I do not know
who the fortunate bridegroom is to
be, but she has just made her will,
giving to the groom five thousand
pounds, and I want you to witness
to her signature. Come, dearest one."

The widow signed with alacrity,
and they witnessed it.

\ To be continued.}

A QUESTION.
By Adelaide Cilley IValdron.

To be, as he, divinely blest,

And of the spirit set apart,
Would' st thou receive unto thy breast

The thorns that pierce the poet's heart?

SOME MEMORIES OF DUDLEY LEAVITT.
. By Mrs. Polly A. Prescott>

DUDLEY LEAVITT was born
May 2$, 1772, at Exeter. He
was the fifth in descent from
Deacon John Leavitt, who settled in
Hinghani, Mass. He was the oldest
child of Joshua Leavitt and Elisabeth
James, and was named Dudley be-
cause both his parents were descend-
ants of Gov. Thomas Dudley. His
father moved to Deerfield, but I do
not know in what year.

Dudley married Judith Glidden, of
Gilmantoii, in 1794, and took up his
residence in that town. He had al-
ways spent his evenings and leisure
hours in study, and at twenty was
well advanced in the sciences. After
his marriage he studied Latin and
Greek under Rev. Isaac Smith, of
Gilmanton. Later in life he studied
Hebrew and some modern languages.
He was an intense student until the
hour of his death.

His first almanac was for 1797, and
his last for 1S5S. The one for 1852
was in press when he died, and he
left six in manuscript. He made the
calculations for the k< Xew Hampshire
Register ' ' for many years and for the
"Freewill Baptist Register "after 1S44.
He was the author of several school

text-books, and at the time of his
death had a work on astronomy nearly
ready for the press.

For many years he taught at least
one term during the year, and when
not in school received classes at his
home. He taught his last pupils in
1S46 when 74 years old. A copy of
the Concord Observer, published in
1 Si: 9, contains this advertisement:

" Meredith Academick School.

"'Dudley Leavitt hereby respect-
fully gives this information that he
proposes to open his School in Mere-
dith near Centre-Harbour, on the 23d
da}- of August next, for instruction
in the various grades usually taught
in academies. The Lancrastan meth-
od will be adopted as far as practica-
ble. Xo pains will be spared on the
part of the instructor to render the
acquisition of useful knowledge easy
and pleasant to those young gentle-
men and ladies who may attend the
School.

" Board reasonable. Tuition $3.00
per quarter; except for teaching Al-
gebra, Navigation, Gunnery, or the
Science of Projectiles, &c, Spherick
Geometry' & Trigonometry, Astron-
omy & Philosophy, for which the

1 Mrs. Prescott, a lady now over S5 years of age, was a :pupil of Master Leavitt's. In a private letter
accompanying this sketch she says, — "In some things he was very peculiar; very polite, even to the small
children, he would tip his hat and bow, and he had great reverence for aged people : but for anything, in school
or out, that in any way was not strictly up to his mark, one ou^nt :o have seen his keen eyes snap to appreciate
it. He raised a fine family of four boys and hve girls. Two oft his daughters went as missionaries to Bankok,
Siam. One son studied for the mini>try, but I believe he die-i before he graduated. The rest of the family were
all an honor to themselves and to the community, and ail =dh.lars. Wherever you saw one of Master Leavitt's
children you would see a book. The;, lived in our school district, and consequently we had much in common.
He was the teacher for several terms, but he was better fitted for adults than small children. It seemed to be
his meat and drink, teaching astronomv and mathematics." — Ed.

266

A SUNSE7~ REFLECTION.

tuition will be S3. 50 a quarter & in
that proportion for an}' length of
time. Meredith, July 6, 1819."

Dudley Leavitt moved to Meredith
in 1S06, and settled on the farm
which was ever after his home. He
never came in from the field so tired
but he would take up a book to work
his mind while he rested his bodv.

He said his family thought his mind
never rested except when he was
asleep. He cared little for money
matters, but loved knowledge and
reverenced God. He fell dead in his
home early in the morning of Sep-
tember 15, 1S51. Thus ended a
worthy man, beloved and respected
bv all.

A SUNSET REFLECTION.
By Caroline M. Roberts.

The da}' is fading into night,
And in its soft withdrawing light,
The coming evening calls to rest,
Ere sunlight leaves the gleaming west.

Around the wide horizon's rim,
Before the darkness makes it dim,
Are clouds, in gorgeous colors rolled,
Of crimson, purple, gray, and gold.

In them is promise from on high,
As when the rainbow spans the sky,
And signals by its blended rays
The coming- of uncounted days.

And when the morning dawns and breaks
And all the life of Nature wakes,
Her pealing anthems rise and tell
Of Him who " doeth all things well."

•sgr^n

Conducted by Fred Germing*, State Superintendent of Public Instruction.

THE TEACHERS' AKC&UITY GUILD.

I>TCORPORATED UNDER THE LAWS OF MASSACHUSETTS.

By Charles IV. Morey, Master Highland School',. Lowell, Mass., Secretary of Massachusetts

Guild.

The severe mental strain and high It was with a desire to relieve able and

nervous tension under which faithful deserving teachers from a part of this

teachers work tend to make them ap- wcarry and anxiety, that, in 1892, several

prehensive of the future. The small teachers in the vicinity of Boston con-

and insufficient salaries preclude those sidlered the plan of forming the associ-

frequent and necessary relaxations, atiion named above. The success of

which preserve health and elasticity of other similar organizations — notably

mind and body, if one attempts to make tftcase of Boston, New York, Brooklyn,

suitable provision for the " rainy day/' ami Philadelphia, — showed that the

which is so apt to come. Besides, idea was at least popular with teachers

many teachers have others dependent and the public. The reception of a

upon them. This burden, though cheer- pro visional constitution drafted by this

fully and uncomplainingly borne, can
but weaken the teacher's efficiency.
For to be a successful instructor of
youth demands the best physical health
and a mind free from anxiety and care.
Work itself rarely kills, but worry often
does. And in the rush of our modern
American life the teacher has to bear
a full share, and probably realizes bet-
ter than any one else the rapid pace at
which children must be driven in order
to reach the standard demanded by our
civilization.

self-appointed committee was so cor-
dial, and the pledges to join such an
organization so numerous, that it was
decided to form a permanent associa-
tion to be known as The Teachers'
Annuity Guild. After complying with
the necessary legal forms, a charter was
issued by the secretary of the Common-
wealth on April 21, 1893.

The growth of the Guild has been
rap id, and yet it is believed that all its
members joined only after being con-
vinced of its soundness. In many

26S

ED UCA TIONA L DEPAR TMENT.

cases teachers employed counsel to
investigate the plan before sending in
their applications for admission, and in
other cases financial men of well-known
ability and character made a searching-
examination of the scheme, and, as far
as is known, rendered in every case a
favorable report.

Briefly explained its object and
methods are as follows :

OBJECT.

The object of the Guild is to provide
annuities for its members.

MEMBERSHIP.

Any teacher, superintendent, or su-
pervisor in the permanent employ of
the state or of the school committee of
any city or town duly admitted to the
Guild is eligible to membership on the
payment of an initiation fee of three dol-
lars, and signing a certificate that he is
in good health. After the lapse of one
year from the date of admission of any
city or town, no teacher employed
therein is eligible to membership if his
term of service exceeds fifteen (15) years,
and by an amendment adopted last Jan-
uary no teacher will be admitted here-
after if his entire term of service ex-
ceeds fifteen (15) years. This amend-
ment was adopted in order to protect
those who were willing to take hold of
the enterprise in its infancy, and by
their united efforts place it on a firm
and substantial basis. Many teachers
now ineligible have expressed to the
writer deep regret that their short-
sightedness prevented them from join-
ing while they could.

The total membership in January,
1896, was 1,040, and there are already
n the hands of the trustees one hun-
dred and fifty applications to be acted
on at the next quarterly meeting.

MANAGEMENT.

The management is vested in a Board
of Trustees, chosen by the various
districts in proportion to their mem-
bership.

The following table gives an idea of
the extent of the Guild :

Cities and Towns in the Guild.

District.

Cities and towns.

Arlington.

Belmont.

Lexington.

Brockton.

Bridgewater.

Broo KLINE.

Brookline.

Milton.

Cambridge.

Chelsea.

Haverhill.

Bradford.

Lawrence.

Methuen.

No. Andover

Lowell.

Lynn.

Nahant.

Saugus.

Swampscott.

Malden.

Maiden.

Melrose.

Wobura.

Newton.

Salem.

Somerville.

Waltham.

The Board of Trustees and its organ-
ization for 1S96 is as follows:

Gordon A. Southworth, president,
Somerville ; James S. Barrell, vice-pres-
ident, Cambridge ; Eugene D. Russell,
vice-president. Lynn ; Charles W. Mo-
rey, recording secretary, Lowell ; George
M. Wadsworth, financial secretary, Som
erville ; William F. Bradbury, treasurer
Cambridge ; Horace A. Freeman, Ar
lington ; Harold C. Childs, Brockton
Mary McSkimmon, Brookline; Mary A
Lewis, Cambridge ; Daniel A. Clifford
Chelsea ; Clarence E. Kelley, Haver
hill : Benjamin F. Dame, Lawrence
Calvin W. Burbank, Lowell ; Thomas G

ED UCA TIONAL DEPAR EVENT.

269

Rees, Lynn ; Arthur L. Doe, Maiden ;
Levi F. Warren. Newton ; Frank L.
Smith, Salem ; Charles C. Dodge, Sa-
lem ; Bradford W. Drake, Waltham ;
Andrew R. Linscott, YVoburn.

In addition to the above officers there
is a financial collector for each district.
The treasurer, financial secretary, and
financial collectors are all under bonds
for the faithful discharge of their duties.

support.
The support of the organization is
provided for by assessments, each mem-
ber paying annually 1 % of his salary,
provided said salary does not exceed
$1,000. On salaries over $1,000 the
assessment is 1 f <■ on the first thousand,
and }2 % on the amount over $1,000,
but no assessment is to exceed $20.
Any person contributing $10, or more,
becomes thereby an honorary member.
Several hundred loyal and generous
friends have contributed sums ranging
from $1 to $100, while by sales, lectures,
concerts, publications, and personal
contributions the members themselves
have raised several thousand dollars.

FUNDS OF THE GLTLD.

There are two funds — the Permanent
and the Annuity.

Until April, 1S96 — three years after
date of incorporation — all receipts less
the current expenses are placed to the
credit of the permanent fund. All con-
tributions, donations, and bequests are
also to be added to this fund, unless
otherwise ordered by the donors.

The income from this fund is the
only part of it that can ever be used.
After April, 1896, 50$ of initiation fees
and dues are added to the permanent
fund each year till the said fund
amounts to $30,000, and thereafter 20 fc
of the initiation fees and assessments
are annually added till the permanent

fund becomes $60,000, after which 5 %
of all initiation fees and assessments
are to be credited to the permanent fund.

This permanent fund is invested by
the committee on finance, with the ap-
proval of the board of the trustees and
an advisory board of three business
men, selected by the trustees, in secur-
ities authorized by the laws of the com-
monwealth.

The present advisory board is as
follows : Hon. J. M. W. Hall, ex-mayor
of Cambridge, Hon. William H. Hodg-
kins, mayor of Somerville, Hon. James
F. C. Hyde, ex-mayor of Newton.

The annuity fund will consist of 50 #>
of the annual receipts from initiation
fees and dues less the current expenses,
together with the income from the per-
manent fund, until the permanent fund
amounts to $30,000. Thereafter So cf
of the initiation fees and assessments
less the current expenses, and plus the
income from the permanent fund, will
be available for annuities till the per-
manent fund becomes $60,000, and
thereafter 95 % of all initiation fees and
dues, less the current expenses, together
with the income from the permanent
fund, will be available for annuities.

The following is the financial report
filed with the insurance commissioner
for the year ending December 31, 1895 :

Report of the Treasurer.
Balance on hand, Dec. 31, 1894, $13,087.05

INCOME.

From initiation fees . $114.00
*« annual dues . 7,542.46
4i honorary mem-
bers and donations . 6,980.94

From investments . 1,085.16

15,722.56

Total .... $28,809.61

DISBURSEMENTS.

Expense of management . 620.52

Balance on hand, Dec. 31, 1895, $28,189.09

270

EDUCATIONAL DEPARTMENT,

The balance on hand, December 31
is invested as follows :

1895,

Mortgage at 5 A %

$6,500.00

Mortgage at 6 %

3,500.00

Mortgage at 6%

2,700.00

Mortgage at 5 %

2,800.00

Mortgage at 5 %

3,200.00

Mortgage at 5 %

1,300.00

Mortgage at 6%

3,000.00

In savings banks

104. So

In Safe Deposit and Trust

Co. Bank

5*084.29

Total

$28,189.09

Respectfully submitted,

William F.

Bradbury,

Treasurer.

Examined and found correct :

Eugene D. Russell, Chairman,
Bradford W. Drake, Secretary.
For Committee on finance.

Since this report was presented over
$5,000 has been received from dues,
and over $3,000 from donations, making
the sum of $36,000 now invested.

ANNUITANTS:

Annuitants are of two classes : (1)
those who after a service of 35 years
resign their positions, and (2) those
who become either physically or men-
tally incapacitated for school work. In
no case, however, can a member be-
come an annuitant till the expiration of
3 years from the date of his admission
to the Guild. An annuity can not ex-
ceed 60 7o of the salary at the time of
retirement, and no annuity can exceed
$600. If the annuity fund is not suffi-
cient in any one year to pay all annui-
ties in full, the fund available is divided
among annuitants in proportion to the
annuities to which they are entitled.

The by-laws also allow any member
who has taught in public schools for at
least 25 years, and who has also been
for at least 10 years a member of the
Guild, to give up teaching and still re-
tain all the privileges of membership,
provided he continues to pay assess-

ments, each of which shall equal his
last assessment as a teacher.

No annuities can be paid till April,
1896. It is impossible to estimate the
number of annuitants, but there will be
about $S,ooo available for distribution
during the first year of paying annui-
ties.

Let us briefly apply the by-laws to
the case of a teacher receiving a salary
of S600 :

1. The city or town in which she
teaches must be on the list of cities and
towns approved by the trustees.

2. Her entire term of service as a
teacher (all of which she can count
toward the 35 years) must not exceed
15 years.

3. She must sign a statement that
she has no mental or physical infirmity
likely tc unfit her for teaching.

4. She must pay an initiation fee of
$3, and an annual assessment of 1%,
of her salary.

5. Should she become incapacitated
for her work she may, after a member-
ship of 3 years, receive an annuity.

6. After 35 years service she may re-
tire on an annuity.

7. Her annuity cannot exceed 60 ;£
of her salary at time of retirement.

The following advantages may be
urged as direct results of such institu-
tions as the Guild :

1. Worthy teachers after their years
of active service are ended may receive
a sum Luffjcient for their support.

2. The removal of the feeling of anx-
iety for the future prolongs the career
of the enlcient teacher.

3. The bond of good-fellowship and
sympathy in working for a common
good strengthens and deepens the Chris-
tian, as well as the professional, spirit
among those to whom the training of
our children is entrusted.

EDUCATIONAL DEPARTMENT.

271

NEW HAMPSHIRE TEACHERS 1 READING CIRCLE.

WRITTEN WORK. FOR THE FIRST MONTH, SECOND YEAR.

Boone's Education in the United States, pp. i to 43.

1. The New W01 Id was more favorable Massachusetts, one in thirty was a col-

than the Old for the advancement of lege graduate. The influence of such

popular education because America had an element, in accordance with the

thrown off the shackles of despotism spirit of the age, could not fail to join

and renounced servitude. Government liberty and learning and to lay deep the

by the people can be successfully main- foundations of an educational structure

tained only. where the individual judg- that challenges the admiration of the

ment is trained to weigh public matters world.

intelligently, and the sovereignty of the 4. The first free public school in the

people is necessarily based upon popu- United States was established in Brook-

lar education. Freedom from estab- lyn in 1633, and the first school tax

lished customs and precedents opened was collected at that time. This was

a wide field for the establishment of in accordance with the instructions of

educational institutions upon the broad-
est and most independent basis.

2. The seventeenth century was a
period of the highest importance in ref-

the Dutch West India Company to
maintain a school master. The first
public Latin school was established in
Boston, in 1635. This marks the dis-

erence to the development of social, tinctive educational ideas of the colo-

intellectual, and industrial questions, nies : the Dutch followed the ideas of

The extension of geographical discov- their native country concerning popular

eries, familiarity with the customs of education, while the college bred men

of New England looked toward a fitting
school for Harvard ; their idea being to
make university education widely ex-
tended and within the reach of all.

5. As early as 16 19 liberal provisions
were made for schools in Virginia. In
162 1 buildings and lands had been pro-

other nations, the extension of com-
merce, the invention of printing, the
beginnings of local self-government,
the results of eommon school education
in Sweden, all contributed to render this
epoch especially fitted for the establish-
ment of that public school system which
is the pride and glory of the Linked vided. But the Indian war of 1622
States of America. postponed the establishment of schools

3. Motley, the historian, traces the for some years,
beginnings of our public school system 7. In 1635 the first public school in

to the earliest life of the Dutch colo- New England was established in Bos-
nies in America. Luther and Calvin ton. Rehoboth followed in 1643, while
and Knox were all advocates of com- Ipswich, Salem, Cambridge, Roxbury,
mon schools, and urged and secured Dorchester and Plymouth, also Hart-
their establishment respectively in Ger- ford, New Haven, and Newport, all
many, Switzerland, and Scotland. But had public schools at about the same
more than all this must be taken into time. The Massachusetts law of 1642
account the personality of the colonists, established compulsory education, fin-
Of the first six hundred who landed in ing parents and guardians who permit-

272

ED UCA TJONAL DEPAR TMENT.

ted their children to grow up in igno-
rance, and even if, after admonition,
parents still neglected to comply with
the law their children could be placed
in the custody of persons approved by
the selectmen until they attained their
majority.

7. John Harvard, the greatest bene-
factor of education in America, gave
half his estate towards the erection of a
college. Private subscription and an ap-
propriation from the state, provided for
the completion of the work of which
Harvard had borne the principal ex-
pense. His books, also donated, two
hundred and sixty volumes, were the
foundation of the present Harvard
library. The first principal — Plarvard
was a school rather than a college — was
succeeded by Mr. Henry Dunster, with
the title of •• President." He patterned
after the English universities, and after
a score of years of informal manage-
ment requirements for admission were
announced, and from that time onward
Harvard has established and deter-
mined the educational standards of
New England.

8. The Indian war of 1622 postponed
the establishment of a college in Vir-
ginia until 1660. A movement was
then started, which increased in power
and influence until, in 168S, certain
wealthy planters subscribed twenty-five
hundred pounds and applied for a char-
ter that was granted five vears later,

largely in the words of the act of 1660.
King William and Queen Mary both
gave generous aid to the college. It re-
ceived also twenty thousand acres of
land, a percentage of the tax on
tobacco, the fees of the surveyor-gener-
aPs office, immunity from taxation, and
a representative in the Colonial legisla-
ture. In three months it received more
than Harvard obtained for the first
fifty years. It was absolutely under the
control of the Church of England, and
its curriculum was of the English pat-
tern.

9. Washington was chancellor of
Williama and Mary in 1789. He was
the firs-it American and the first layman
to receiive that honor. Five signers of
the Declaration of Independence, includ-
ing Jefferson, were graduates of this
college, as also were three Randolphs,
Monroe, Judge Blair, and Chief -Justice
Marshall.

10. The beginning of Yale was at
Saybrook in 1 701. It had no fixed ex-
istence and was badly embarrassed until
17 18, when it was moved to New
Haven and permanently established
there. Elihu Yale donated some $2,500
worth o£ books and the college assumed
his nam e upon its removal. The college
was largely supported by private means.
A religvous test for rector and tutors,
requirin g assent to the Saybrook plat-
form of 1708, was established in 1722
and lasted for a hundred years.

Baldwin s Applied Psychology,, pp. 1 to 43.

1. Pedagogy includes the art of school 2. We can study feelings and thoughts
management, which is really the art of only by introspection. Hence psychol-
character building; the art of teaching, ogy is necessarily a study of self. I am

conscious that I know, I feel, I will.
This Is evidence of my personality. I
also know self can do his best work
when his body is in good condition.

by which the pupil is led up to a higher
and a better life ; the history and science
of education ; with psychology and applied
psychology.

EDUCATIONAL DEPARTMENT.

273

3. The intellect has three faculties :

{a) Perception, which is gained through the

senses;
(6) Representation, which presents again

my past perceptions;
(c) Thought, which gains new truths through

the medium of known truths.

4. The feelings may arise from :

(a) Organic Sensations, caused by organic

stimuli;
(3) Special Sensations, caused by external

stimuli ;
(c) Emotions, caused by ideas.

5. The will embraces three kinds of
efforts :

(a) Attention, concentration of effort;

{&) Choice, determination in view of motives;

(<r) Action, the execution of determination.

6. By means of applied psychology
the teacher beholds in one view the
entire mental economy of his pupil
from childhood to maturity and deter-
mines the means of education, the
cause of development, using helpful
desires and suggestions, all in strict
accordance with the laws of growth,
based upon the fundamental principles
that all mental powers supplement and
reinforce each other, that each capa-
bility requires specific culture, and that
there is a definite order of development.

7. Since self works through a physi-
cal organism termed the human body,
it is essential to learn the nature of that
organism and to fit it to become the
most fitting exponent of self.

8. Self receives all messages from
the outer world through the sensor-gang-

lia or sensorium, and transmits mes-
sages and executes all volitions through
the motor-gang/ia, 3. wonderful tele-
graphic system, termed the motorium.

9. Sensor-excitations produced by ex-
ternal causes, occur in the cerebral-sen-
sor-ganglia. With these feelings or sen-
sations the physical series of cause and
effect terminates, and a new series, the
mental series, is initiated. The term
sensation includes both the mental and
physical series.

10. By means of sensations we gain
distinct ideas of individual objects.
These ideas are sense percepts, and the
power to gain them is termed sense-per-
ception.

Illustration - . — What maybe learned
about an orange through the senses ?

11. Self-percepts are notions of par-
ticular mental acts.

Illustration. — Having read and
heard about the culture, growth, and
shipment of oranges, call to mind what
you know of the subject.

12. Necessary conditions, as duration,
space, cause; necessary relations, as
truth, beauty, duty; in fact, all neces-
sary ideas are self-evident, universal,
and intuitive. A necessary percept is
the result of self perceiving necessary
realities.

13. Since the powers, acts, and per-
cepts of the mind must be determined
by external influences, internal influ-
ences, or intuitions, it is evident that
the three classes of sense relations, self
relations, and necessary relations cover
the entire field of intellectual activity.

Kay % s Memory and How to Improve It, pp. 1 to 46.

1. Memory is the most important
faculty of the mind, because it records
and treasures up what is passing in
the mind so that it may afterwards be
recalled at will. If every sensation,
thought, or emotion passed entirely and
forever from the mind the moment it
ceased to be present even conscious-
ness itself could have no existence.
There would be no literature, no science,
no philosophy, and man would sink to

a lower level than the brute creation,
were memory dethroned.

2. Memory is ever present with us,
instructing us and guiding us. Memory
of former errors prevents their recur-
rence, while we derive pleasure and
profit from the contemplation of our
good deeds. Our storehouse of knowl-
edge and experience may always be
opened by the key of memory, and its
treasures made subject to our will.

274

EDUCATIONAL DEPARTMENT.

Memory constitutes the greater part
of our intellectual being and builds up
our personality. It throws light upon
the present and serves as a guide for
the future, since we may remember
courses of conduct which we have pur-
sued and avoid them if wrong or con-
tinue them if right. The effect of each
repetition renders each succeeding act
more easy and natural than the pre-
ceding one.

4. Pleasant memories of the past
add materially to the joys of the pres-
ent. Reminiscences of school and col-
lege life bring many a smile to the faces
of grave judges and reverent clergymen.
In memory's magic mirror we see the
home of our childhood, our family, and
our playmates, and live over again the
days that never may return. The phy-
sical eye may be dimmed, the physi-
cal ear may be deaf, the physical voice
broken, but memory brings back the
perfect vision, the ear, as of yore,
hears distinctly the clear voice of the
child, as the past comes back to com-
fort and to cheer.

4. The readiness with which we may
recall an impression depends largely
upon the attention given to the matter
at the time of its occurrence. Careful
attention to important details at the
time, especially if accompanied by
repetition, will help to fix them firmly
in the memory.

5. Our ideas are recalled by associa-
tion with other ideas. By strengthen-
ing the faculty of attention and wisely
attending to the association of our
ideas, the reproductive power of the
memory will be brought nearly to an
equality with the retentive power. Thus
it is possible to remember nearly every-
thing we have ever known, and to be
enabled to recall it at will.

6. The memory of isolated facts asso-
ciated with some particular event, as
illustrated in Dame Quickly's narra-
tive, is the lowest form of memory.
Words that convey no ideas may be
learned and repeated, but the mem-
ory of such words is valueless. Train-
ing the memory in this direction is
really little or no gain to the intellect-
ual powers.

7. But when a number of ideas of the
same or a similar kind are reproduced
at the same time, associated, compared,
arrayed, and classified, the reasoning
power is developed, and the use made
of the ideas recalled may be of the
greatest importance in forming judg-
ment or determining a line of conduct.
It is a characteristic of men of ability
to pass from the low form to the higher
form of memory, association by similar-
ity taking the place of association by
contiguity.

8. The highest form of memory, the
representative faculty — sometimes des-
ignated the imagination — is the power
the mind has of holding up vividly
before itself thoughts which, by the act
of reproduction, it has called into con-
sciousness. By this power we may re-
produce past sensations or ideas pre-
cisely as they previously existed, or we
may combine parts of one with another
and bring them together so as to form
an image more beautiful than the senses
ever perceived.

9. If we gaze for a time on a bright
red color the retina becomes exhausted
and we see the complementary color,
green. If we close our eyes and think
of red, the complementary color will
eventually take the place of the one
originally in mind. Every activity has
its organs, through which it acts, in
which some change is effected by every
action. The reproduction of the idea
doubtless affects the physical as well
as the mental activities.

10. This doctrine of a physical basis
for memory appears to be sustained by
facts. Observe the physical effect of a
description of a game of foot-ball or
base-ba'/. upon an enthusiast in ath-
letic sports, or read a pathetic de-
scription in prose or poetry and note
your own eyes filling with tears. It
is needless to enumerate illustrations of
recollections of painful or pleasant emo-
tions accompanied by necessary physi-
cal suffering or enjoyment, since every-
one can make countless experiments for
himself and thus become convinced of
the intimate connection between body
and mind when past experiences are
reproduced by memory.

rsEis

C. DOE.

Hon. Charles Doe, LL. D., chief justice of the supreme court of New Hamp-
shire, was stricken with paralysis and died at the Rollinsford railroad station Mon-
day, March 9. He was born in Derry April 11, 1830, and graduated from Dart-
mouth in 1849, a member of the Phi
Beta Kappa society. He also belonged

to the Psi Upsilon fraternity. He ~-- v%

studied law in the office of Hon. D. M.

Christie at Dover and at the Harvard \

law school, beginning practice in Dover
in 1854 in partnership with C. W.
Woodman. In 1S53 and 1854 he was
assistant clerk of the state senate and
from 1854 to 1856 served as solicitor of
Strafford county. In 1859 he was ap-
pointed associate justice of the New
Hampshire supreme court, and held the
position until 1874 when for political
reasons he resigned. In 1876, upon the
remodelling of the court on its present
lines, he was again summoned to the
bench as chief justice, serving contin-
uously in that capacity until his death.

His legal attainments weie remarkable and his decisions far famed as absolute
models of their kind. They enjoyed the distinction of being quoted in the Eng-
lish courts. Judge Doe is survived by a wife, two sons, and a daughter. He was
a man of simple tastes and eccentric manners, but of genuine legal talents and
clear and impartial mind.

JOHN DAME.

Hon. John Dame died at Portsmouth March 13 at the age of 80 years. He
was the oldest Free Mason in the city, had served as alderman and city marshal
and in 18;; declined the Democratic nomination for governor.

B. F. FLANDERS.

Ex-Gov. B. F. Flanders of Louisiana died near New Orleans, March 13, aged
So years. He was a native of Bristol, but went to New Orleans in 1845, where
he taught school. He was finally chosen superintendent of the public schools for

276 NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY.

New Orleans and started a newspaper, The Tropic. When the Civil War occurred
Mr. Flanders, who was a strong Union man, left New Orleans and returned to New
England. He came back to his southern home, however, when the city was cap-
tured, and was appointed treasurer of New Orleans. He was elected to Con-
gress as a Unionist, but left his seat to accept the place of treasury agent for
Louisiana in 1S66. He was appointed mayor of New Orleans in 1870 and elected
in 1872, and was appointed assistant United States treasurer by General Grant in

CHARLES CARLETON COFFIN.

Charles Carleton Coffin was born on Water street, Boscawen, July 26, 1S23, and
died at Brookline, Mass., March 2. He was educated at the town schools and at
Pembroke Academy. From 1845 to 1S4S he was engaged as a surveyor upon
the Northern Railroad. After farming
for a time, he was employed in the con-
struction of Boston's first electric fire- ...
alarm system. He began early in life /^/^^P^P^*
to contribute to the press, and was con-
nected in Boston with the Atlas, the
Atlas and Bee, and the Journal. When
the war broke out he went to the front
as war correspondent for the last named
paper, and performed distinguished ser-
vices in that capacity. After the war
he travelled extensively abroad. For
the past quarter of a century Mr. Coffin
had devoted himself principally to au- [

thorship, and had won remarkable sue- -\ '^ t

cess, pecuniary and artistic, in this
chosen work. His published works
number more than a score. His his-
torical studies and stories, universally . =.'...
praised for their accuracy, clearness,

and vivid interest, will form his chief hold upon fame, but he did good work
upon many other lines. He was the historian of the towns of Boscawen and
Webster and the orator upon the occasion of their sesqui-centennial in 1883. He
was deeply interested in the leading public questions of the day, and had served
as a member of the Massachusetts house of representatives and state senate.
He was a fluent and pleasing speaker and had delivered more than two thousand
addresses in his lifetime. Fie left no children, but is survived by his wife, Sally,.
daughter of Col. John and Sally Gerrish Farmer.

\Y. P. TAYLOR.

William P. Taylor, born in Milford, October 17, 1826, died at Townsend, Mass. r
March 9. He learned the trade of a blacksmith, and continued in that business
until 1859 when he opened the largest general store in Townsend. In iSSo he
organized the Townsend Furniture Company which he had since conducted. He
was postmaster under President Lincoln, and had served in the legislature.

NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY. 277

HAZEX BEDELL.

Col. Hazen Bedell was born in Haverhill July 31, 1818, the descendant of a
family renowned for its patriotism and military services. When 20 years of age
he came to Colebrook and entered upon mercantile life there, later building
a business block for himself. He was postmaster for 10 years from 1S44, dele-
gate to the constitutional conventions of 1S50 and 1S76, representative in
i853-'54, county commissioner iS59-'62, member of Governor Harriman's coun-
cil, i867-'6S, and judge of probate iS/4-*75. He had been treasurer of Cole-
brook academy for forty years and had held many other offices of trust. He was
very prominent in Masonic circles, having been a member of the order more than
forty years. He died at Colebrook February 27.

GEN. F. S. WEST.

Gen. Francis S. West, who died in Bessemer, Ala., March 6, was a native of
Charlestown, and left his home at the age of 20 for location in the west. His ad-
vent in political life was on his election to the stare senate of Wisconsin, after which
he conducted several parties across the plains to California at the outset of the
gold excitement. When the war broke out he was commissioned lieutenant-colonel
of the Thirty-third Wisconsin volunteers, and was breveted brigadier-general for ser-
vices at the Battle of Bentonville. He also commanded one of the three divisions
of the army that marched with Sherman to the sea. He was U. S. marshal during
the four years of President Cleveland's first administration, after which he went
to Alabama and became president and one of the principal owners in the Besse-
mer steel works, owning at one time nearly the entire township of Bessemer. He
married early in life Miss Emma Rittenhaus, a member of one of the prominent
old New Jersey families, who, with six of the eleven children born to them, survives
him.

GEORGE \V. GLLE.

Colonel and Brevet Brigadier General George W. Gile died at his home in Phila-
delphia, February 26, aged 67 years. He was born in Bethlehem, and went to
Philadelphia when a youth. He entered the War of the Rebellion as lieutenant
of the Twenty-second Pennsylvania Infantry. At the conclusion of the war he
was appointed first lieutenant of the Forty-fifth United States Infantry. He was
retired from active service with the full rank of colonel in 1870, on account of dis-
ability resulting from wounds received during the war.

II. W. GREENE.

Herman W. Greene was born in Hopkinton April 11, 1836, and died there
March 1. He was educated at Hopkinton, Pembroke and Gilmanton academies,
studied law with George and Foster in Concord and with Beard and Nickerson in
Boston, and was admitted to the Suffolk bar on his 21st birthday. He practised
his profession in Boston for some years, and then returned to his native town
where he has been in active practice since. Mr. Greene served as moderator of
Hopkinton continuously since 1863. He was superintendent of schools for five
years, and solicitor of Merrimack county for the same length of time. He was a
leading member of the house of representatives in 188 1— '82 and 1S89 and 1891.

Qfc2-i$ NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY.

J. N. MORSE.
Julius Nelson Morse was born at Royalston, Mass., August 5, 1840. He
learned the printer's trade in Keene, upon the Cheshire Republican, which he pur-
chased in 1865 and conducted until 1S7S. He was one of the founders of St.
James Episcopal church of Keene, a trustee of the Keene Guaranty Savings bank,
and prominent in other lines. He died at Keene, February 21.

O. D. MURRAY.
Orlando Dana Murray, a native of Hartland, Vt., was born March 12, 18 18,
and died at Nashua, February 22. He published newspapers at Manchester and
Nashua in the forties, and later engaged in the manufacture of cardboard and
glazed paper. He was president of the Nashua Card and Glazed Paper Company
from its organization until 1883. He was also one of the original stockholders of
the Nashua Watch Company, and was interested in other manufacturing enter-
prises.

G. H. COLE.

George H. Cole, a native of Westmoreland, died at Fitchburg, Mass., March 2,
at the age of 69 years. He was engaged in business successively at Westmore-
land, Rutland, Vt., Ludlow, Vt., and Chester, Vt. For twelve years he was pro-
prietor of a hotel at Leominster, Mass., and since 18S6 had been landlord of the
American House at Fitchburg.

GEORGE S. HUNT.

George S. Hunt was born at Derry, February S, 1829, but removed at an early
age to Portland, Me. He engaged in mercantile life, and in 1S57 laid the foun-
dations for an extensive Cuban commission business which he continued until his
death. He was also engaged in sugar broking and sugar refining enterprises, and
was largely interested in shipping. Pie died March 9.

C. W. EVERETT,
Charles W. Everett died at North Weare, March 2, at the age of 71 years and
10 months. For thirty-five years he had been a railway passenger conductor, and
was also a farmer and summer resort proprietor. A Democrat in politics, he rep-
resented his town in the legislature in 1S71, and was once a candidate for state

senator.

J. S. DANIELS.

Dr. J. S. Daniels died at Rochester, March 6. He was born in Barrington in
1852, attended Harvard Medical college, graduated from the Long Island College
hospital, Brooklyn, in 1875, and was a member of the pension examining board
under President Arthur. He was one of the most prominent secret society men
in the state, and was the defeated candidate for mayor in 1894. He was a mem-
ber of the Strafford District Medical Society, and a leading surgeon.

REV. NOAH HOOPER.
Rev. Noah Hooper was born in Saco, Me., November 11, 1806. He graduated
from the Newton Theological institution in 1S37, and was ordained at Woburn,
Mass. He subsequently held pastorates at Exeter, Deerneld, Somersworth, New-
buryport, Mass., Meredith, Stratham, and elsewhere, and was at the time of his
death, March 4, the oldest Baptist minister with one exception in the state.

2SSS23SK

Invaluable Aids to Teachers
and Students of Geography

National
GEOGRAPHIC MONOGRAPHS

on the Physical Features
of the Earth's Surface.

Now Ready

I — PHYSIOGRAPHIC PROCESSES
II — PHYSIOGRAPHIC FEATURES

JOHN \Y. POWELL,

L:Ue Director U. S. Ge;iog : cai Survey.

Annual Subscription — ten Monographs —

payable in advance, .... $1.50

Annual Subscription — five copies to one

address — payable in advance, . . .6.00

Single Monographs, .20

Remit with order to

American Book Company

New York

Cincinnati

Chicago

Just Published

Long's
HOME GEOGRAPHY

-:- Beautifully Illustrated -:-

PRICE, 25 CENTS

Sent, postpaid, for 25 cents
AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY

* J—S

New York - Cincinnati - Chicago
Atlanta - Portland, Ore.

Boston

The Worlds Fair'
Best Flour

Excels All Others in
Purity in Milling and
Excellent Flavor of the Bread.

L. C. PORTER MILLING 'CO.,
WINONA, MINN.

k S. RANNEY, Concord, N. H., Gen'i Aient for Mains, New Hampshire, Vermont, and Northern Massachusetts.

v:%

THE WAR OF THE REBELLION

I>7 SOXG uAlNTT) STORY.

Broujo & Borpgc,

CONSULTING OPTICIANS,
THE KENNARD, . . . MANCHESTER,
*no30 NO. MAIN ST., CONCORD,

Have given a life's study to Ophthalmic optics, and their
parlors and testing rooms were never -o well equipped
for the treatment of complicated defects as at the pres-
ent time. Highest standard in skill and matei Lai. Low-
est prices consistent with correct work. You can save
time, patience, and money by sending your oculist's pre-
scriptions and broken spectacles to The Kennard.
Everything in the optical line. Artificial eyes a specialty
in price and quality. Their Concord rooms are iu charge
of W. L. Ficket. a graduate optician, and the senior
member, Mr. Brown, is there every Wednesday and
Thursday.

*^V/'' Kft

^BP^

I • .y

E. W. PEARSON,

Director of Waste, Publi. S. br»»ls. Nashua, X. If., and Supervisor of
3Iu*ic. State Normal school, tlymoutb, X- H.

A Patriotic, Historical, Memorial Exercise for
Public Schools.

" It should find it? ^

K O X . J < .» H _\" B . SMITH.

Ho every public school ia America."

uvenmr ot' New H:tmi>sliire.

" It i« tho ho-r i'f:!„' kind that I have ever seen. I shall use if in
bkv school.* — m.vky M. Dlllamaklv, Principal of School St. School,
Haverhill. Mass.

"The best iirrariawl progruin y«M published, The selections are
^srellrm. the music admirable, and th- arrangement complete."—
S. H. ln'TTi'.v, Master of Paruieuter St. School, Boston. Mass.

AN ACT providing that certain sessions «xf the public schools shall
be devote*! t<- exercises of a patriotic nature.
r> it enacted by the Senate :»iu House of Kepreseutarives in G?u-

Seetion I. In all the public schools of the state x)f la-t re^nlar
• --,..» prior i Mi uiorial Day. or a portion thereof, shall be devoted
r... exercises of a patriotic nature.

Sec. 2. Ihi< ik f slt.iM t;ikr- etfect upon it* passage.
Approved February L'!. 1.5R.VJ.

1 copy

US copies .

PRICES.

. * .25 1 50 copies . . . £3.00
. 1.00 100 "... 5.00
. 2.00 ! $40 per thousand.

INFORMATION*.

Any further information regard in sr the exer-
cise, or its proper production, will he gladly
given by the publishers.

REPUBLICAN PRESS ASSOCIATION.
Publishers, Concord, N. H.

JpHM«

1 r\ii Y .

Books
of . . .'".
SPECIAL
Value.

ELEMENTS OF BOTANY. By Joseph Y. Bergen, Instructor in Biology in the English
High School, Boston. i2ino. Cloth. 332 pages. Fully illustrated. For introduction
5i .10.

ELEMENTS OF PLANT ANATOflY. By Emily M.Gregory, Professor of Botany in Barnard
College. Svo. Cloth. 148 pages- "illustrated. For introduction, #£.25.

OUTLINES OF LESSONS IN BOTANY. For the use of teachers, or mothers studying with
their children. By Jane H. Newell. Part I.: From Seed to Leaf. Square 121110. Cloth.
150 pages. Illustrated For introduction. 50c. Part II.: Flower and PVuit. 393 pages.
Illustrated Cloth. For introduction, Soc.

A READER IN BOTANY. Selected and adapted from well known authors. By Jane H.
Newell. Part I.: From Seed to Leaf. 121110. Cloth. 199 pages. For introduction, 60c.
Part II.: Flower and Fruit- i2mo. Cloth, r^ pages. For introduction, 60c.

LITTLE FLQWER-PEOPLE. By Gertrude E. Hale. Square l2mo. Illustrated. Cloth. 85
pages. For introduction! 40c.

GLIMPSES OF THE PLANT WORLD. By Fanny D. Bergen. Fully illustrated. i2mo.
Cloth. 156 pages. For introduction, 50c.

ELEflENTS OF STRUCTURAL AND SYSTEMATIC BOTANY. For High Schools and Ele-
mentary College courses. By Douglas Campbell, Professor of Botany in the Leland Stan-
ford Junior University. 121110. Cloth. 253 pages. For introduction, $1. 12.

DESCRIPTIVE CIRCULARS SENT FREE ON APPLICATION.

GINN. & COMPANY, Publishers.

BOSTON.

NEW YORK.

CHICAGO.

ATLANTA,

■■■■■

/<5?^; '■■■■ :-J,

me- orANrre /w/-uy c?rm\y

1896

Bound Volumes

A limited number of bound volumes of Vol-
ime XVIII and XIX of The Granite
Monthly can be obtained of the publishers
: or

$1.25 PER COPY.

If numbers are returned in good condi-
:ion, Ave will bind them for 50c. per volume.

THE GRAXITE MONTHLY CO.,

Concord, X. II.

ME WAR OF THE REBELLION

in sontg ^v>tt3 story.

l-i:t-:i.vi:Ki> uv

E. W. PEARSON,

rirectoruf Music, I'ul.li- Schools, Nashua. X. H.. and Supervisor of

Music. State Normal School, Plymouth, N. H.

\ Patriotic, Historical, Memorial Exercise for
Public Schools.

PMCES.

$ .2S I 50 copies . . . $3.00
1.00 100 " . . . 5.00
2.00 $40 per thousand.

1 copy
10 copies .
!5 " ...

INFORMATION.

Anv further information regardine the exer-
?ise.*or irs proper production, will be gladly
riven bv thfi publishers.

REPUBLICAN PRESS ASSOCIATION.
Publishers, Concord, N. H.

Life ^surance at Low Cost.

PREMIUM KATES.

Age 20
" 25
" 30
" 40
" 50
" 60

$10.70
11.60
12.80
16.55
27.30
52.25

The above rates will be reduced by annu-
al dividends, and are for term policies,
which can be converted into any other form
of policy without reexamination.

■

Nicholas Frost, Gen. Agt.,

UNDER THE CLOCK,

CONCORD, N. hL

Read Your Paper

AND TRACE

DR. NANSEN'S EXPEDITION

THE NORTH POLE.

OAf THE j\IEW MAR OF ™ E

NORTH POLAR REGIONS

In Our Editon of

tea wm\

it,

Mm i

5g[| NEW gp

|i General Atlas mi

-r.-T-1-n !S-0-. ' i

■WITH

\fM Marginal Index. |ig|

1898

■
si

(Size of Pa:

■160 Pa ires.)

157 Pages of Colored Maps, showing Every

Country on the Face of the Globe.

Index on Margin of Each Page.

READ This Fine Print. It Will
Interest You.

The dimensions of each page are (2x14 1-2 inches.
The maps delineate with incomparable accuracy the
physical con forma ion of every State and Territory in
the United States, the Dominion of Canada, and of every
country in both hemispheres, whether of imperial im-
portance or the smallest republic in Christendom.
The maps themselves reproduce with rare fidelity of
detail the features of every habitable and uninhabited
tract knot; n to the explorer. They also show the areas
and population of every important city in each State
and Terri ■< > of the United States, and the political
subdivi-i ns of the continents of both hemispheres,
every place of prominence being indicated by a Ready
Referen - Marginal Index, so systematized and classi-
fied that ~"\-: place sought may be located instantly.
Every • me is printed from a faultless font of type,
and itaa ' - out clear-cut as a cameo. Hence it is typo-
graphic. ::■ perfect, ami unequaled as a vehicle for
imparting universal knowledge. Its colored pages
bristle with the crispest geographical facts rendered
neces-ary by the ceaseless changes in the geographi-
cal lines of nation-, consequent upon the constant up-
setting of the world- landmarks by war, exploitation,
and arbitrament.

Superblv Round in Fine English SilK Cloth,
With Co'lor^d Edges, sent V "^PAilJ to ar
Express office in the United
ceipt of ....

Orders Received N<
Work. Address,

ATLAS DEPARTMEP

CONCOL

upon re-

'£$1.95

r the Complete

0NIT0R BLDG.,

I. H.

Jooococ^

OTALY.1

§E dS

The Main Street of the Oceax, Henry McFarland .

May Song, Mary C. Jones ........

New Hampshire Horses, H. C. Pearson .

Yesterday, F. L. Pattee ... .....

The Administration of a Great Department in the City of Boston
Bertrand T. Wheeler ......

The Pianist, Samuel Ho\t ......

Some Passing Thoughts on Literature, Miio Benedict

The Fairy King. Ex-Governor Moody Currier

Lisbon, George H. Moses ......

Sweet May, Frances H. Perry

The Legend of John Levin and Mary Glasse, E. P. Tenney .
Fair Okmoxd, Edward A. Jenks . . . . . .

The Society of Colonial Wars in New Hampshire, John C. Thorn
Educational Department, Fred Gowing .....

New Hampshire Necrology . . . . . .

279

285

301

306 i

307

3 fo ..

3ii J

3 2 S !

1 1

35 6 a

337

34'

The Town of Conway, by Ellen M. Mason, will be the feature of the
June Granite Monthly.

Subscription : J2.C0 per year ; $1.50 if 1 Ad in advance ; 10 cents per copy.
Entered at the post-office at Concord. X. H., as second class matter.
Copyright, 1896, by the Granite Monthly Company. All rights reserved.
Illustrated, printed, and electrotyped by the Republican Press Association, Concord, N. H.

jH^P

Berlin, N. PL, Bonds.

A i

per cent,

We offer, subject to prior sale, a few thousand of the bonds of
this progressive and enterprising Xew Hampshire town. Full particu-
lars and price furnished upon application, also our regular circular
giving list of a large number of high grade municipal and railroad
bonds, and non-taxable securities.

E. H. Rollins & Sons,

53 State Street, Boston, Mass.

FUNK & WAGNALLS'

tand

*•

Dictionary

is everywhere acknowledged
by Educators, Scholars, the
Press, and the Pvblic to be

THE BEST FOR ALL PURPOSES.

It is the Latest and Most C omplete.

Contains 301, Sdr> words, many thousand more
than any other dictionary ever pub Ished.
More than $960,000 were expended in its pro-
duction. 217 Specialists and Editors were en-
gaged in its preparation.

Its Definitions are. Clear and Exact.

President Milne, of New York State Normal
College, says its definitions are host to be
found anywhere. Scores of critics say the
same.

Its Etymolo gies are Soun d.

They are especially commended by the Atlan-
tic Monthly, Boston, the H'-stminster Gazette,
London, Sunday School Times, Philadelphia,
and scores of others.

It is a Government Authority.

It is in use in all the departments of thr Uni-
ted States Government at Washington, and
all the departments of tl e Dominion of Can-
ada. Government r-xperts give it the prefer-
ence on all disputed points.

It is Adopted in the Public 5chools

of New York City and elsewhere. Its new ed-
ucational features are extremely valuable in
training pupils to a correct u e of words, cap-
it ils. hyphens, etc. Its illustrations are su-
perb, its tables of coins, weights, and meas-
ures, plants, animals, etc., are exhaustive and.
cannot be found elsewhere.

It is the Most High ly Commended. ■ •

Never has a dictionary been welcomed with
such unanimous and unqualified praise by the
pre^s, the great universities, and by eduea-
torsand critics throughout the English-speak-
ing world. Americans are proud of it. Eng-
lishmen admire it.

The London Times says: "The merits of he
Standard Dictionary are indisputable and are
abundantly attested ~by a large number of unim-
peachable" authorities/"

The Xew York Herald says: "The Standard:
Dictionary is a triumph in the art of publication..
. . . Jt is the most satisfactory and most com-
plete dictionary yet printed.

The St. .Tame** s Budget rGazettc), London,,
says: " The Standard Dictionary should be the
pride of literary America, as it is"the admiration
of literary EoglunlL"

Sold by Subscription only. AGENTS WANTED.

prices:

In 1 v.,1. In 2 vols.

Half Russia £15.00 $18.00

Full Russia 18-CO 22.00

Morocco 2200 2C.0O

U uj .ijTnt Ls in your tow-n send your subscription ro

Funk & Wagr.ails Co., 30 Lafayette PL, New York.

B»eriptive Circulars will be sen: on application.

K 1 1

iVi

O
h4

2
w

' IS

The Granite Monthly.

Vol. XX.

MAY, 1S96

No. z

S^>

THE MAIN STREET OF THE OCEAN.

By Henry McFarland,

ji?£*>^HERK is a wide path

way on the sea, be-
ginning in about

latitude 40° north,
longitude 70° west,
sweeping thence
north easterly on
the are of a circle
which will clear
Cape Race and end
southeast of Cape Clear on the Irish
coast, which may be considered the
Broadway of the sea, for it is the
route of the great fleet of ships sail-
ing between the northern American
states and the north of Europe.

There the American flag was for-
merly in the ascendant, because for
a long period the lion's share of the
North Atlantic carrying trade was in
the grip of American seamen.

That period was the golden age of
full -rigged ships. Famous sailing
packets owned on this side the water
plied regularly between home ports
and Liverpool, London, and Havre,
or other seaboard cities of Europe,
and among the ships known all
around the globe in the fifties were
the majestic Dreadnaught, Stafford-
shire \ Ocean Monarch, and Neiv
World. These were doubtless framed

ISir, SIsili\ 1 A'ZSZJ 1 UP IJ-lll ULIISUV.

of New Hampshire oak, as they
were built at Newburyport and East
Boston, and the Merrimack valley
from Franklin to Nashua was where
shipwrights of those coast towns
sought their timber. The ribs of
the Great Republic grew on our hill-
sides.

Ebenezer Knight, a Portsmouth
man, was captain of the New World.
Ship-owners like John A. McGaw, and

people talked about ships as they
talk about horses at Colebrook and
Stewartstown. There was, as the
device chosen for the state seal in-
dicates there had long before been,
a real New Hampshire interest in
building ships and sailing them on
the great highways of the ocean ;
there was like and larger interest in
other states with wider seaboard,
and there was gain in the traffic,

TOBME

-■■

■ w*i:iii*2

Collins Steamship Atlantic.

ship-masters like William McFarland,
David Austin, and Horace Putnam,
were then reared in our valley. The
Belle Wood, a fine New York and
Liverpool packet, was named for
Arabella Wood, daughter of Rev.
Henry Wood, of Concord, and it
is worth mentioning that another
daughter of the parson became the
wife of Lieut. James S. Thornton, of
the Kearsarge.

On the Piseataqua, where the Good-
wins, Marcys, and Tredicks dwelt,

of course. Some ships designed for
the California trade, of the class of
the Witch of the Wave (built at Ports-
mouth), Red Jacket, and Flying Cloud,
were said to have earned their en-
tire cost on their first voyage to San
Francisco. This is satisfactory evi-
dence that the Black Ball, Swallow
Tail, and all the other packets trav-
ersing the North Atlantic were not
sailed for fun.

Countrymen who visited Boston
wharves in those days would be

THE MAIN STREET OF THE OCEAN.

281

likely to see a tall sky-scraper warped
out of its berth to the tune of

" We '11 bowse her up to Liverpool
And lay her off the town,"

and it was an inspiring sight, though
of course not so grand as that of a
ship under sail at sea.

As to speed, the American ships
carried the broom at the mast-head.
In three successive days the Flying
Cloud sailed nine hundred and ninety
odd miles, at which rate she would
go from New York to Liverpool in
little more than nine days. At this
period our ships had long been known
on even* sea b}* their trim appearance
and the superb way in which they
were sailed. Nathaniel Bowditch,
of Salem, author of the '"American
Navigator," at the beginning of the
century took a ship into the Medi-
terranean with ever>* man on board,
including the cook, able to work a
lunar observation.

Beside the winged pilgrims of the
sea and air there were in the fifties
established lines of American trans-
atlantic steamships, the most famous
being the Collins, with the Atlantic,
Pacific, Arctic, and Baltic, of 5,000
tons each, and at a later date the
Adriatic of 5,500 tons. It was the
custom then to advertise the captains
as conspicuously as the ships, and
such were James West, Ezra Nye,
James C. Luce, and Joseph J. Corn-
stock, all tried men of the sea.; the
last mentioned ("Glorious Joe," as
a New York newspaper styled him)
was taken off a Fall River steamboat.

The Collins line had fortnightly
sailings, and at the outset carried the
United States mail for $385,000 a
year, increased to $885,000 at a later
date.

The Atlantic and her consorts were

propelled by side wheels driven by
side-lever engines, except the Adriatic
which had engines with oscillating
cylinders. They were faster, more
elegant, and more comfortable in a
sea way than their competitors of the
Cuiiard line, although the English
company built the Asia and Africa
expressly to defeat them. A table of
the swiftest trips between New York
and Liverpool, from October, 1S4S,
to August, 1S51, was printed by the
New York Express in the latter year
(the year the yacht America won the
now famous cup) ; four of these trips
by the English ships averaged eleven
days, one hour, and thirty minutes,
against four by the American ships
in ten days and twenty-six minutes.
The Baltic then held the record at
nine days, thirteen hours, and thirty
minutes from wharf to wharf.

Although the Collins ships received
considerable praise from English news-
papers, in which Chambers' Fd'nihurg
f carnal set the example by an article
entitled " Steam Bridge of the Atlan-
tic," they never carried many Eng-
lish travellers. Captain Mackinnon,
of the royal navy, came over in 1S52
by the America, a Cunarder, and re-
turned by the Baltic, to make com-
parisons. He reported to the ship-
builders of England, to quote in one
line the pith of his long article (re-
printed in Harper" s Magazine, Yol.
VII), "There are no ocean steamers
in England comparable to the Baltic"
Jenny Lind came across in the Atlan-
tic\ and on various occasions mani-
fested her regard for the ship which
brought her over.

Another American steamship com-
pany ran the Washi?igton and the
Herma?ui between New York and
Bremen, and still another the Frank-

2$.

IHh MAIM ^IKhhl Ufi IHt. UL&AN.

•¥.

The Clipper S^ip D r sadnau£~^T.
From a lithograph owned by J+ha H. Sttrautwt, Concord, .V. //.

lin and the Humboldt between New
York and Havre, — which four ships
as they went to and fro, touched at
Cowes, England. Commodore Van-
derbilt also took a hand in the busi-
ness with the Ariel , North Star, and
Vanderbilt.

These steamship lines and the fast-
sailing packets which no man could
number, led perhaps by the Dread-
naught, Capt. Samuel Samuels, which
once sighted the Irish coast in nine
days and seventeen hours from New
York, licked up the cream of the
traffic. The packet A delaide once left
New York in company with the Cun-
ard steamship Sidon, and beat her to
the Mersey, making the run in twelve
days and eight hours. The Red Jacket
in 1854 did the voyage in thirteen
days, one hour, and twenty-five min-
utes.

Occupying such a position as this
fortv vears a<ro, what are the reasons

why in later years this trade fell to
other lasands? Perhaps the chief of
these reasons was the passing of the
wooden ship ; another was higher
American! wages. Then the govern-
ment of ; the United States changed
hands, and under narrower adminis-
trative theories mail pay to steam-
ships wats withheld. Jefferson Davis,
Howell Cobb, and John B. Floyd
were me:n of power in that day, and
were never suspected of having a
special prejudice in favor of Northern
marine enterprise. Then followed
the war., with English-built Alabamas
and JFit ridas as a destructive force,
the era of western railroad building
came tc- tempt capital in another di-
rection, and the bold voyages of our
most famous steam and sailing ves-
sels caime gradually to a mute, in-
glorious end.

There were some mournful disas-
ters during the great period of Amer-

THE MAIN STREET OF THE OCEAN.

ican activity on the highway of the
North Atlantic. The Arctic was lost
near Cape Race in September, 1S54,
by collision with the French steam-
ship Vesta. This elicited a fine poem
of ninety lines in Dickens's Household
Words, beginning thus:

" Oh ! bark baptised with a name of doom !
The distant and the dead
Seem speaking- to our English ear
Where e'er that name is said ! "

Then the Pacific left Liverpool in
January, 1S56, to be never heard of
more, and probably was crushed in
an ice field off Newfoundland, where
one of her cabin doors was seen by a
passing ship. These disasters gave
our navigators a set-back, and per-
haps they knelt at the stool of humil-
ity too long and too openly. It is
our national habit to tell the truth.
Every European sailor -man and
steward, afloat or ashore,
declares that nothing un-
pleasant ever happens to
their craft, and they have
come themselves to believe
this oft- told tale. There is
a forty years old scrap-book
under the writer's hand, and
he finds by turning over the
careful selections pasted on
its pages that the Cunard
line lost the Columbia on
Black Ledge, ran the Cam-
bria ashore on Cape Cod,
the Hibcrnia on Cape Sa-
ble, and lost the Tripoli in
broad day on a rock in St.
George's channel. The
Arabia and Europa butted
one another over the Grand
Banks not far from Cape
Race, the Oregon sunk in
collision with a coal
schooner off the Lon^

Island short, and Captain Wolfen-
den rammed the Pavenia 011 a rock
while steaming into Plymouth bay
which he mistook for the route to
Boston, although a passenger to
whom the coast was familiar told him
he was facing: the shore of Duxburv.
The Ccphalonia has recently been
stranded on the English coast, and
the Catalonia been towed to the
Azores with a broken shaft.

In April, 1S73, the failure to iden-
tify a light 011 the shore of Nova
Scotia lost the White Star liner At-
lantic and five hundred and sixty
lives. The Allan, French, and North
German lines have a record no better
in like respects.

There are some 'hopeful signs that
the American flag will come to its
own again. Far from being displaced

1 £i

•■

Tin "ilLTi rr*" •!-»»• ' -....'

American Liner in tie Stocks.

284

THE MAIN STREET OF THE OCEAN,

vi&r \g?">?* ' W^ ^ •%" '^\Wj

The Dining-room o» the New York.

in traffic to the southward, our coast-
wise and gulf steamships have been
navigated with a punctuality and
freedom from accident as gratifying
as it is surprising.

In 1873 Philadelphia people created
a new line to Liverpool by building
the Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, and
Illinois, designed to equal che White
Star ships of that period. General
Grant chose one of these for his
voyage to Europe, and the wnole
quartet have carried the flag on the
North Atlantic path from their begin-
ning to this day without one serious
mishap. On the other hand 'hey
have put prize crews on vessels de-
serted at sea, and taken off crews of
disabled ships. The Ohio picked up
the broken down Noordland and
towed her to Queenstown, and
another of the line rendered a like
service to the Abbotsford.

Beside these Philadelphia ships the
American line has on the route be-
tween Xew York and Southampton,
Eng., the St. Eouis, St Paul, New
York, and Paris, ships of eleven thou
sand tons, as stately, as comfortable,
as staunch as sail on any sea. navi-

gated by seamen of long
experience and incontesta-
ble skill. These great ships
are liable to service in the
United States navy in pos-
sible emergencies. This is
the first year's work of the
St. Eouis and St. Paul.
The St. Eouis has crossed
in six days, nine hours, and
thirty-two minutes, her
speed in winter or summer
not varying widely, and her
chief engineer expects to
see her go over in six days.
Our engravings show the
Atlantic, of the Collins line (the pro-
genitor of steamships without a bow-
sprit), the Dreadnought, the St. Eouis
at sea, and the dining-room of the
New York. As an American sailor,
one of those who sail the great ships
on the main street of the sea, we
have Capt. John C. Jamison, of the
St. Pauf f born in Brooklyn, educated
in the polytechnic schools of that city,

...

Captain Jamison, of the St. Paul.

NEW HAMPSHIRE HORSES.

285

apprentice to a New York pilot-boat,
sailor before the mast on the fam-
ous Dreadnaiigkt y mate of the Illinois
and Indiana, captain successively of
the Vaterland, Switzerland* Wacsland,
Rhyaland, Westcrnland, New York,
and now of the Si. Paid. It surely
illustrates the uncertainties of the

sea that a commander so experienced
should touch ground on a foggy coast
with the best of the long list.

Success to American sailors and
American ships, and honor to the
flag of the United States. May it
float over the last, as it did over the
first, steamship to cross the ocean.

MAY SOXG.

By Mary C. y^mes.

The snow of the May time drifts across

An orchard I know full well,
Where the grass is green as rain-sprung moss

And the nestling robins tell
Their secrets free as the Mithe winds toss

The branches wherein tthey dwell.

II.

O robins and bees, keep holiday,

Where the winter winds made moan,

And blossom across, sweet drift of May,
Where the winter snows were blown.

For life shall conquer all death, alway,
And spring shall be lord alone !

NEW HAMPSHIRE HORSES.

By II. C. Pearson.

T would be a pleas-
ant and profitable
task to delve into
the history of New
Hampshire horses,
and to speak of
those most promi-
nent in its records, from the battle-
charger John Stark bestrode to Vi-
king, the stallion king. Space, as

well as time and information, is, how-
ever, lacking for such an endeavor,
and the most the present article can
attempt is to briefly describe some of
the "fast ones" owned or bred by
New Hampshire men, and to give
some idea of the importance and ex-
tent of equine interests in the Granite
State.

It would be impossible to accom-

286

NEW HAMPSHIRE HORSES,

f
%

^. .*"^fi

l:.. =:■

horse paper of north-
ern New England.
He assisted in the
formation of the
New England Asso-
ciation of Trotting
Horse Breeders, and
served as one of its
vice-presidents.
Among the valuable
stallions which he
owned were Len
Rodgers 2:3s, Al- \
mont Eclipse, Fire
Kine, Jingles 2: 2S}{,

Mambnno Wilkes.

plish this result in any degree of com-
pleteness without reference to one
now passed away, who, by his keen
interest, thorough knowledge, and
financial liberality, did more than
any other one man to further the
cause of scientific horse breeding in
New Hampshire. The late Col. John
B. Clarke of Manchester was the
founder and until his death the editor
and proprietor of the Mirror and
Farmer, the leading agricultural and

Tnetis

: ; w.vj Steele (sire of Ara-
go 2:22^2, Bonner
Steele 2:24^, and
Speedwell 2:18), and Mambrino
Wilkes 2:28^. It was well said of
Colonel Clarke
after his death
that ' * the horse
interests of New
Hampshire lost
their best friend
and mos't valua-
ble helper when
he passed away." w - c - c,arke -

His younger son, Mayor William C.
Clarke, of Manchester, in-
herited his father's horse
love and horse knowledge,
and few better writers upon
turf topics are at present
contributing to the press
of this country.

Mambrino Wilkes, above
referred to, is fairly entitled
to rank as the "Grand Old
Horse" of New Hampshire
annals. He is a son of
George Wilkes, that great-
est of American sires, and
was bred by Gen. W. T.
Withers at Lexington, Ky.

-. -.

NEW HAMPSHIRE HORSES.

28-

He was brought to Xew
Hampshire by Colonel
Clarke in 1S76, and
since that time has es-
tablished a remarkable
record as a sire of speed,
stamina, high form, and
docility in both trotters
and roaders. His record

of 2:28^ was

gained

after but four weeks of
preparation at the close
of a stud season. He
is handsome and attrac-
tive in the show ring,
and still at the age of
more than a score wins
the admiration of horsemen wherever
he is shown.

Mambrino Wilkes is now the prop-
erty of William Corey and O. B. La-
port, of Manchester, and is handled
by Fred Brackett. Of his get three
have already beaten 2:20, and half a
dozen more are included in the 2:30
list. Among the more prominent
of these are Thetis 2:16^4, Mischief
2:17^, Dan Wilkes 2:20*4, Myra
Wilkes 2:24^, Arthur Wilkes 2:19,

*vJ

Montrose.

R. M.

25H

Wilkes 2:2514:, Daisy C.
Ned. 2:27^, and Colonel
Arthur Wilkes 2:29^2. "Mambrino
Wilkes has also two sons, Morrison
Wilkes 5,307 and Contoocook, that
are getters of speed, and one of his
grandsons, Conemur 2:19^4, has done
trial miles better than 2: 15. Daugh-
ters of his daughters include Brun-
hilde 2:15*4' and Lady Helen 2:25*4'.
The name of this New Hampshire
sire was first brought prominently to

Arthur W;Ues.

288

NEW HAMPSHIRE HORSES.

:-'~~™"

■■ ■

1'i :m'

• v i r

v u: ■

- .

3s •=>.»

Morrison Wilkes.

the attention of horsemen all over the
country by the achievements of his
daughter, Thetis 2:16)4, the property
of Capt. George H. Perkins. On the
shores of Lake Winnepauket, Web-
ster, Captain Perkins maintains an
extensive and well-managed stock
farm headed by Montrose 2:26)2, by
Dartmouth, sire of Lady Helen and
others. Undoubtedly the apple of
his eye, however, is the big bay mare
by whom he has often outspeeded the

fastest on the famous Bos-
ton boulevard. Thetis was
foaled June 6, 1S85, her
dam being Serena by Ved-
der's Cadmus. Her orreat
year on the turf was 1893
when she started in with a
record of 2:32 and cut it to
her present mark at Rigby
park, Portland, October 3,
in a hard -fought contest
with her rival from her
own state, Edith H. By
this achievement she won
for her driver, E. E. Cogswell, a
prize sulky for the fastest Xew Hamp-
shire bred horse of the year. Thetis
has been privately timed several
seconds faster than her record and
good judges are of the opinion that
in a mile straightaway over the snow
she is one of the fastest horses in the
world. Captain Perkins's racing
stable was the past season in charge
of W. P. Otterson who gave Maple
Valley by Red Cedar, a mark of 2 :22^( .

Jubilee Wilkes.

NEW HAMPSHIRE HORSES.

C. D. Hal

Mambrino Wilkes's value as a sire
was most conclusively

shown when he was mat-

ed with mares of breed-
ing and stamina, such as
the mothers of Thetis and
Arthur Wilkes. Prin-
cess, the dam of the lat-
ter, deserves more than a
passing word as one of
the best, if not the best,
brood mares, by the rec-
ords, this state has ever
produced. She was a
bay mare, by General
Lyon; dam, by Hill's
Black Hawk. She has
been dead a dozen years,
but during her lifetime
produced eleven foals,
seven of whom could
beat 2:40; three, 2:30;
and one, 2:20. Besides
Arthur Wilkes and Mor-
rison Wilkes, both of
whom were dropped

289

after she was twenty years of age, she
was the dam of Nun, trial in 2:28,
and Vladimir 2:2S?<. This mare was

—

G!e r coe Wildes.

owned by Arthur F. Rolfe of Pena-
cook, who bred his namesake, Arthur
Wilkes. The latter is now owned by
M. J. Healey of Worcester, Mass.

u i .

,,, . ?**£

Dr. F. L. Gerald.

290

NEW HAMPSHIRE HORSES.

- -•rr^r-c

At this writing the fastest horse by
the records ever bred in New Hamp-
shire is Jubilee Wilkes 2:11^2 . He
is a dark brown horse, bred by E. F.
Hall of Belmont, and foaled April 8,
18S7. His sire was Gleneoe Wilkes,
and his dam, Black Maria. He was
first worked in 1S92 by William
Locke, when he won two races and
took a record of 2:37. In 1S93 X. J.
Stone campaigned him successfully
and cut his record to 2:17^2. Dur-
ing most of 1S94 he was out of condi-
tion, but on June 20, 1S95, at Mystic
park, Driver J. H. Xay
piloted him to victory in
straight heats, whose time

Gleneoe Wilkes, the sire
of this fastest of Xew Hamp-"
shire products, is owned by
Dr. F. L. Gerald of Laconia,
one of the state's most earn-
est and successful breeders.
Gleneoe was foaled April 7,
1SS1, by Alcantara, dam,
Betsey and I. He is a bay,
16 hands high, weighs 1,150
pounds, and is a pure-gaited
trotter with a record of 2:41^
and a trial in 2:36. In addi-
tion to Jubilee, he is the sire
of Allen Boy 2:17^, Whirl-
wind 2:20*4, Pansy Blossom
2:23, George A. 2:29 as a 3-year-old,
Little Gem 2:30, and others in the list.
It can be truly said that he is the
sire of more speed than any other
horse of his age ever owned in Xew
Hampshire.

Dr. Gerald also owns the richly
bred Electioneer stallion, Almaden,
by Palo Alto 2:oS^4 , sire of Sunol and
Arion. Almaden was foaled in 1S92 ;
his dam being Kittie Sultan, by Sul-
tan, sire of Saladin and Stamboul.
He is a grand young horse, worthy
of the great families he represents.

was 2 : 1

2:11*2, 2: i,

The last half of the third
mile he paced in 1:04^2 .
On July 19, at Portland,
by what was generally re-
garded as an unjust decis-
ion, the judges deprived
Jubilee of a heat which he
really won by a neck in
2:10*4. He is owned by
C. D. Hall of Laconia,
and has not yet reached
his speed limit.

Edith H

; ,'•

NEW HAMPSHIRE HORSES.

291

*P*

asked one of the party, in amaze-
ment, when the purchase was an-
nounced, and Mr. Daniell himself
confesses that her general appear-
ance at that time was anything but
prepossessing.

However, " that dirty gray thing "
has since that time started in forty-
five races, winning first place in
thirty, and taking some part of the
money in all but five.

Her owner was first attracted to
her by her breeding, which is of the
finest. She was sired by Deucalion,
son of Hambletonian 10. Deuca-
lion's dam was Trusty, she by a
noted running horse, Marlborough,
son of Imported Trustee. Edith's
dam was Patti, by Xutbourne, full
brother to Nutwood ; second dam by
Daniel Lambert. She has a trial
record of 2:09, which she will some
Hampshire track is Edith H. 2:10^4, day equal in a race, and is the
as game and consistent a race mare mother of a handsome three-year
as ever drew a sulky. The story of old filly, Fanny Rice, by Kentucky
her purchase by her present owner is 2490. She is to-day as free from
something of a romance. In the win- blemishes and imperfections as when
ter of 1888. ex-Contrressman Warren she beq-an her racing: career, and is,
F. Daniell of Franklin was, with a as she deserves to be, one of Mr. Dan-
party of gentlemen from this state, iell's most highly prized possessions,
attending ice races on Lake

W. F. Daniel

The pet and pride of the Xew

George, Xew York. 1 he)'
visited the breeding estab-
lishment of B. W. Burleigh
at Ticonderoga, and in-
spected his colts. Most of
the party were not suffi-
ciently impressed to make
any purchases, but Mr.
Daniell offered for Edith
H., then a weanling, and
another colt, $600. The
offer was at first refused,
but later accepted. * ; What
do you expect to do with
that dirt}' gray thing?"

Much Ado.

292

NEW HAMPSHIRE HORSES.

Second only to her in his regard is usual natural speed. The Dauiell

the handsome bay horse, Much Ado colors are favorites at every race

2:205-4, as a four-year old. This track, not only on account of the

speedy and powerful young stallion qualities of the horses that wear

was foaled in 1SS9, and bred by D. them, but because of the invariable

M. Ball of Versailles, Kentucky. He honesty and genuine sportsmanlike

W. T. Greer.e.
W. B. Coo!<.

E. E. Cogswell.
W. R. Cox.

A QUARTETTE OF NEW HAMPSHIRE JOCKEYS.

is by Judge Salisbury, son of Nut-
wood, while his dam, Lady Simmons,
is the daughter of Simmons, perhaps
the best son of the great George
Wilkes. Much Ado has a trial
record of 2:14, and in his races has
shown endurance and pluck of the
highest degree. His gait is bold and
rapid, and he is possessed of un-

actiou of Mr. Daniell himself. His
driver in past seasons, Mr. W. B.
Cook, has been an efficient co-adjutor
in securing the smile of victory for
the blue and gold. He is this season
handling a string of promising colts
for C. C. Kenrick of Franklin.

The two fastest horses ever owned
in New Hampshire have spent the

.. ?

IfeLi

Ossf 1 &L-

V \

S3 - - -

ri^fV-

L-i

— ££*&£ i&fcik-

294

NEW HAMPSHIRE HORSES.

past winter way up on the Canada
line at the West Stewartstown stock
farm of George VanDvke, the mil-
lionaire lumberman. They are Early
Bird 2:10, by Jay Bird, and Mascot,
Jr. 2110%, by Wilkes Hurrah. Their

ing coincidence that old Mascot 2:04,
himself, is now owned by a son of
New Hampshire, Mr. Lewis G.
Tewksbury, the New York bank-
er. Nicola 2:23^, by Nicol, and a
half dozen other fast ones will also

ff^ZE

[v.;^^;^--

~-e g -.. - ■<

& : * '-...V " %;■., £ -< . ;. . r -~ i~ i

■ -:.' :

Ss'V4 I: -'"-' J - v '

■

;-/

•^\V

■
■ -

■; - • 1

1 ■' ?sS : - I

i r

•

Chimes Arion

and

Rozzeta L.

•

> ... _ ,

Romola
and
Inez.

Enderby.

H. M. Kimball, Proprietor
Clara Wilkes.

A GROUP FROM RIVERSIDE FARM.

millionaire owner has placed them carry the Van Dyke colors this sea-

under the care of that efficient trainer son.

and driver, John Cheney, and there New Hampshire possesses half a

is no reason to doubt that the north dozen stock farms and breeding es-

country and the whole state will tablishments which are doing much

have reason to be proud of their to raise the grade of the driving

work next season. It is an interest- horses of the state. Prominent in the

NEW HAMPSHIRE HORSES.

295

%fe Hem ,

Highland View Stock Farr

sgK v -.'V.

^*>-^

C'aremcnt, N. H.

list is the Riverside stock farm at
Newport, where H. M. Kimball has
an ideal location and every other ele-
ment of a successful establishment.
The farm comprises several hundred
acres and aside from its adaptation to
breeding is one of the best in that
rich section of the country. His
stable is headed by Enderby 2: 29^,
and includes among its bright partic-
ular stars a daughter of Pilot Wilkes,
Clara Wilkes 2:26/4, at five years
old, who was campaigned in 1895 by
Bard Palmer. Among
the many high-bred and

2:06^/4, dam Mabel A. 2:23^4. Two
handsome foals of 1S92 are Romola
by Enderby and Inez by Victor
Wilkes, dam, Nellie Lambert by
Daniel Lambert.

Though now practically retired
from the business there was a time
when Sam Hodsdon of Meredith
stood very near the head of Granite
State breeders. Among the well-
known animals of which he held the
possession at one time or another and
most of whom he bred were Mischief

promising

this farm it is difficult to
select a few for especial
mention, but no lover of
horses could fail to notice
and admire Chimes Arion,
by Arion 2:07^4, dam,
Chimes Belle, by Chimes,
foaled April. 1S95. One of
the foals of 1S94 is Zetter,
sire, Quartermaster 2 :2i}{,

dam Nelese, by Nelson
2:09. Radka is a two-
year-old by Ralph Wilkes

Pansy Biossc

2g<

NEW HAMPSHIRE HORSES.

W. ML Leet.

2:1734, Etta K. 2:2134, Ira M. 2:50.
sire of Dick 2:20*2, Falcon, Jr., and
others.

W. H. Moody, the wealthy manu-
facturer, has conducted at the High-
land View farm, Claremont, one of
the leading breeding
establishments of the
state until this season,
when he has retired
from the business and
has disposed of most
of his horses including
his fast young stall-
ions, X. L. 2:20^, by
Emperor Wilkes, and
Evolutio 2:13^, by
Nominee.

C. C. Mayberry, presi-
dent of the Xew Hamp-
shire Breeders' Asso-
ciation, is the owner of
two large stock farms,
one in Maine and one
at Hazen's Junction.
His stud at the latter

is headed by William Albert 2:16^2,
by Albert W., and Superintendent
John Snow has under his care some
very promising colts. Mordica 2 : 20^
by Messenger Wilkes, has in the past
been the leading campaigner from
this farm.

At Stratham, Fire Marshal Whit-
comb, of Boston, breeds sons and
daughters of Woodbrino 3926, which
the veteran Tom Marsh develops into
such equine stars as Vega 2:14^,
Stella 2:17^, and Zerbrino 2:27*2,
one of the best colts in Xew England.

Hoxi. Frank Jones, of Portsmouth,
has lately embarked in the breeding
business upon a large scale and has
now represented at his farm the blood
of almsost all the living leading sires
of this country- together with a num-
ber o£ fine brood mares. The pre-
mier r"s Mickey, by Jay Bird, and
one oft the farm's most successful
campaigners is Tom Boy 2:21, b. m.,
by Edgemark.

The number of New Hampshire

■-V

'. «.--

sc^rga-Vrr: r 4

Frank P.

NEW HAMPSHIRE HORSES.

297

E >-'■''•

-. _„ . . . -><£ " ^V . c V- "*-~

Simbrir.o.

•■-.-.' ■;,;■■.

Sffl^

men who own or drive one or two
horses fast enough to have won dis-
tinction on the turf is altogether too
great to allow their complete enumer-
ation in this article. Frank H. Fos-
ter of Tilton, who owned the great
Viking, is now the proud possessor of
a grey beauty, Adra Belle, by Almont
Boy, who took a record of 2:13 under
Frank Sargent's able guidance last
season. Dr. H. C. Wells, of Laconia,
bought out of a Portland livery stable
Dixie 2:14^4, whose breeding has
now been established as by Elector,
a son of Dictator. Old "Jock" Fi-
field at Alton has driven good horses
for many years. His name was for
years associated with Screwdriver,
and he now has in his stable Alcoe,
Jessie P., and some likely youngsters.
Concord has been the horse center
of the state for the past few years, the
management of the Capital driving
park having given there by far the
most successful race meetings held
anywhere in the state. During the
season of 1895 W. M. Leet was the
lessee of the track. He kept there
his handsome Kentucky mare, Pansy
Blossom 2:12, and was also interested

in the string campaigned
by Lear & Carr, of New-
port, including Jeddio
2:25*4, by Monarch, and
others. H. E. Brewster
was their driver. Charles
Yapp, the well known
driver, is the present lessee
of the track.

James C. Norris has a
fast one in Frank P. 2 : 1 7 3/£ ,
and but recently disposed
of Whist 2 : 1 S % . Until he
transferred his interest to
other branches of sport
Mr. Norris was one of the
best known horsemen on the New
England tracks.

James M. Collins bought of Cavan-
auglh brothers in 1S95 the handsome
and high-bred race mare, Wilkie
Belmont 2:24^, by Belmont. L. E.
Currier always has one or two fast
ones in his stable. At this writing
Arthur M. 2:24}^ is his trump card.
Willard T. Greene handles Siinbrino

2:2:

, by Simmons, and also gave

Lady Helen 2:25^ her mark. N. E.

J. C. Norris.

•93

NEW HAMPSHIRE HORSES.

l ' m

' : ''' - — --'. J

\ ; -

■

:. ]

- c i

.'•';'.

JTJ?

"■' i

Prof

Martin and George W. Silver own
the Electioneer stallion, Xewflower
2:2 3/£> which stands at the Canter-
bury farm of the latter.

C. G. and John S. Blanchard are
enterprising and successful breeders.
The latter owns Bessie Snow, darn of
Prohibition, the champion yearling
trotter of New Hampshire, half mile
record 1:23^, by Prince Cuyler. He
purchased her in 1S84 at the closing
out sale of trotting stock of David
Snow of Andover, Mass., the owner
of Daniel Lambert and many other
high-bred horses. She
was first mated with Col.
Harry Lambert, a son of
Daniel Lambert, which his
brother Charles purchased
as a yearling at the same
sale. The result was Ethel
Lambert 2:20^4. Bessie
Snow was bred the next
two seasons to Viking
2:19^4, and produced Vik,
who has trotted below 2:30,
and Kinglet, a successful
prize winner at state exhi-
bitions. Bessie Snow has
pioduced five others for

Mr. Blanchard, one of
whom, Vik's Sister, has
beaten 2:30 in her
work. Her last foal is
Prohibition. Bessie Snow
had produced two fillies by
Daniel Lambert while the
property of Mr. Snow. One
of these, Daisy Lambert,
was bought by Mr. Blan-
chard and produced Lani-
berta Viking which he sold
at auction for $500, the
highest price ever obtained
for a Xew Hampshire
bred weanling. The other
daughter has some promising colts by
Alcantara, was bred last season to
Kremlin 2:07/4, and was sold last
winter to parties in Vienna, Austria.
Bessie Snow has won many blue rib-
bons in the show ring and so have
her produce. She was bred last
season to Emperor Wilkes 2:20^
and will be bred this year to Mr.
Blanchard's new purchase, Storna-
way 2:19. Mr. Blanchard is confi-
dent that two or three of Bessie
Snow's sons and daughters will enter
the 2:30 list this year, and that Pro-

Socks.

NEW HAMPSHIRE HORSES.

299

hibition, two 3-ears old, will be one
of them.

Luman Marston of Pittsfiekl owns
Charles L. 2:19^, Myra Wilkes
2:24*4, and other good ones, which
are campaigned by his son, John K.,
one of the most skilful and popular
young drivers on the turf.

The glory of Manchester as a turf
center has largely departed, owing,
perhaps, to the dissatisfaction which

Successful race meetings were held
at Xashua and Dover during 1S95,
and there are many good horses and
much interest in the sport in both
cities. Cheshire county's fastest is
Holiister 2:17*4, owned by A. X.
Kiugsley of Ashuelot, whose stock
farm is headed by Almaboul, a son
of Stamboul 2:07^. General A. T.
Batehelder of Keene is another lead-
ing horseman in the southwestern

ri ^

tj. S. Locke.

C. K. Dr

has arisen from many of the races
conducted at the track in that city.
There are many honorable and en-
thusiastic horsemen in Manchester,
and it is to be sincerely hoped that
the sport of harness racing may be
revived there under management that
will ensure honest success. Walter
R. Cox was the Queen city's lead-
ing representative upon the turf last
season and achieved success with a
string, of which Johnny Wilkes
2 : 2 1 % , and Combination 2:22^,
were the fastest members.

part of the state. Up in Coos county
C. T. McNally of Groveton has a
king pin in Whirlwind. H. P. Bai-
ley of Tilton owns and drives Judge
McCue 2:22^, by Douglas.

Dr. A. W. Shea of Nashua owns
by recent purchase the fast pacing
stallion, Socks 2:ii)4, by Rockdale.
O. W. Ramsey of Rochester has
caused Blacksmith 2:27, to be re-
garded as the champion sleigh horse
of the state ; and the veteran, Hy
Wilkes 2:20, is owned by Portsmouth
parties.

300

YESTERDA V,

New Hampshire's oldest horseman
is Charles Taylor, now almost ninety
years of age, who still drives in races
Factory Boy 2\2o){, who was old
enough to vote some time ago.
Opponents, whom the pair used to
often meet, were John H. Taylor of
Penacook, and his rather aged racer,
Home Rule 2:217-4, alias Charley
Champlin. The ice races at Con-
cord, between the latter and Arthur
Wilkes, the fastest son of Mambrino
Wilkes, are remembered by every
horseman who had the pleasure of
witnessing 'them.

A very essential part of every horse
race is the judges' stand and its oc-
cupants. If dishonesty or incompe-
tence are found there the sport often
suffers serious damage in the opin-
ion of those who should be its best
supporters. New Hampshire has
furnished a number of judges who
in ability, integrity, and fairness
stand in the very first rank. Prom-
inent among them is Charles K.
Drew of Somersworth, a veteran
whose name has been justly cele-
brated in the annals of the New Eng-
land turf for man>- years. He has
judged races from Bangor, Me., to
Baltimore, Md., and has declined
calls for his services from as far west

as Topeka, Kansas. There is no
starting judge in Xew England to-
day wit© was in the business when
Mr. Drew began his career, and there
never will be one who will be more
fair, honest, and firm, or more popu-
lar with fair-minded and honest-in-
tentioned horsemen.

City Marshal G. Scott Locke of
Concord was for many years a promi-
nent and successful driver and trainer
of race horses, and since retiring
from those branches of the business
he has given what time he could
spare to the work of a starting judge.
He has;- everywhere won plaudits for
his sutscess in this capacity, and
every season finds him compelled to
decline,, on account of official duties,
most flattering offers from all sections
of the country.

There are many other horses and
horsemen who ought to be mentioned
in any comprehensive account of the
Xew Hampshire turf. The limita-
tions of a magazine article, as well
as his own capacity, have prevented
the writier from doing justice to
the maniifold aspects of his subject.
Some day, it is to be hoped, a com-
plete history of "New Hampshire
Horses" may be written. It would
be a work of both interest and value.

YESTERDAY.

By F. L. Pattce.

Oh, where are the petals of yesteryear's flower?

And where are the raindrops of yesterday's shower,

The cloud whence the)' came, and the tears that I shed,
The rays of the sun when the tempest had fled ?

And where are the moments of yesterday's hour?

The leaves of the rose are the sod of ~he lea,
The rain and the tears now are hasting to sea,
And yesterday's cloud is the surf da the shore,
And the sunbeam was caught by tlie blossom I bore, —
But the day that is dead, who can bring it to me?

% 3 9 /i

V/' Tl/X

A *%

I ,/i

■; I ?

3i*

*--v V*

'■'-

- 7

9 J^Ji

H. B. Wood, M. Edwin Libby, D. N. Payson, H. W. Sanborn, John P. Wise,

Executive Engineer. Deputy Sufi. Street Deputy Sufi. Dazing- Deputy Supt. Sewer Deputy Supt. Bridge

V. 'atering Division.

Division.

Benj. M. Cram, B. T. Wheeler,

Deputy Supt. Street Superintendent of
Cleaning Division, Streets.

Cnas. A. Young-, Thomas Kellougti,

epnty Supt. Sani- Deputy Supt. Ferry
tarv Division. Division.

STREET DEPARTMENT OF THE CITY OF BOSTON FOR THE YEAR IS95-'96.

THE ADMINISTRATION OF A GREAT DEPARTMENT
IN THE CITY OF BOSTON.

By Bertrand T. Wheeler.

PAYOR CURTIS, of

Boston, said truly
that " municipal re-
form is the grand-
est watchword of
modern times,"
and New En g-
under the direc-

land's metropoli
tion of this business-like executive,
seemed likely to be the first and most
prominent exponent of the results ob-
tained by the application of the same
principles of ability in management
and honesty in finance, to municipal
government, as good judgment dic-

tates for the success of private bus-
ine>s interests.

The results of the adoption of such
principles in one of the executive de-
partments of the city during the past
year possess some items of interest to
the student of municipal economy
and reform ; these apply only, how-
ever, to the executive function of the
government of which the mayor is the
head, not to the legislative which is
largely responsible for. the city's in-
creasing debt, and in which branch
of the government there is still greater
need and opportunity for reform.

302

ADMiNISTRA TION OF A GREA T DEPARTMENT

An administration giving such
promise of advanced, ideas and results,
failed, however, to be perpetuated by
the "voice of the people," since the
people whose ' ' voice ' ' is heard the
loudest, and unfortunately produces
the greatest results when votes are
counted, are not able to get personal
profit from honest methods, and are
not found flocking to the banner of
municipal reform. The business
men and taxpayers of the city appre-
ciate the methods from which they
derive a benefit but the}' largely vote
where they sleep, outside of city lim-
its ; he who casts his ballot in the
city feels glad to endorse a business
management and feels satisfied when
he has done so, with his vote, when
it does not interfere with his con-
venience, comfortably abandoning his
right of suffrage when it does. The
comparisons made must, therefore, be
between a first year of republican ad-
ministration in which limited time
only a beginning could be made in
the reforms desired, and the previous
years of democratic rule, which may
be taken as a resultant of four years
of party policy and methods under a
single executive.

The street department of the city
of Boston, while one of thirty-five (35)
departments, expends annually over
18 per cent, of the total expenditure
on account of the city of Boston, not
including state tax, interest on debt,
and sinking fund requirements. It
employs from 2,500 to 2,600 men, anoV
spent last year $3,601,945.59 in the
work of the seven divisions proper,
and of the two allied duties of the
superintendent of streets, Boston com-
missioner of Cambridge and Boston
bridges, and inspector of smoke nui-
sance. This sum includes the cost

of maintenance and repairs from the
regular appropriation, $2,140,177.63,
and expenditures for new work of
construction provided for by loans
for permanent improvements ; the
amount of these loans fixed by the
legislative bod)', and the proportion
of thein expended annually depend-
ing upon the energy and ability of
the superintendent and his deputies.
The city, by its elected representa-
tives iaaving decided to expend cer-
tain sums for permanent improve-
ment,, is best served by the earliest
and largest results obtained.

The department during the past
vear, therefore, has made a savins:
over the previous year, in the expen-
diture for maintenance and repairs
of Si 11,664.41, although performing
a much greater amount of work
charged to this account, and expend-
ing from loans for permanent improve-
ments an increase of $379,881.30.

The efforts of the year have been
largely in the direction of organiza-
tion and consequent economy ; by or-
ganization is meant the arrangement
of a system of proper responsibility of
subordinates to superiors all with
well-defined duties which shall not
conflict, nor be duplicated. The
most successful man is not the one
who gives most personal attention to
detail, but the organizer who builds
a business machine with competent
men at the important points, which
will run with the lubrication of the
master, except when a gear breaks or
a belt slips off.

In the paving division the work of
the year is always much embarrassed
by the fact that while the mainten-
ance appropriation is available at the
beginning of the year, this is not
for expenditure on street construction

IN THE CI TV OF BOSTON

but only for repairs and current ex-
penses, and the loan for street im-
provements made annually is not
available until the middle of July or
first of August, the greater and best
part of the season having passed. It
is not, therefore, the desire of the de-
partment to do work near election
time as is popularly supposed, but
the fact is, that funds are not availa-
ble until nearly that time. The sewer
division gets little if any money from
loans inside the debt limit, and as its
funds for sewer construction are ob-
tained from the ' ' board of survey
loan," so called, outside the debt
limit, its work keeps on regularly
•throughout the year.

You will note that the department
has three financial pockets : the main-
tenance appropriation pocket for re-
pairs and current expenses, the street
improvement pocket for money pro-
vided in the annual loan bill inside
the debt limit, and the laying out and
construction of highways pocket for a
loan authorized by the legislature out-
side the debt limit for the construction
of streets and sewers assessable upon
the abutters. To these has this year
been added the Blue Hill and other
avenues pocket, a loan of S2, 500,000,
subject to the same provisions as the
laying out and construction of high-
ways loan, but for the specific pur-
pose of building the four "boule-
vards," Blue Hill .V venue, Columbus
Avenue, Commonwealth Avenue, and
Huntington Avenue. These were
ordered in an incomplete way upon
the last day of the previous adminis-
tration, but no money provided for
construction ; since the passage of the
loan order on April 30, 1895, these
avenues have been divided into thir-
ty-eight sections, the plans for the

entire work have been made, necessi-
tating in the sewer division especially
the detail drawings of sewers for the
entire seven and one third miles of
boulevard, nearly all with two road-
ways and requiring two sewers, one
on either side, and a surface drain
in the middle, and contracts forty-
two in number have been let as re-
quired by law, and the work com-
menced, either in sewer construction
or grading (in some cases both),
upon everyone of these thirty-eight
sections, except four in Columbus
Avenue, between Roxbury Crossing
and Centre Street bridge, for which
distance the avenue is laid out over
the existing Pynchon street, now
paved and in fair condition. It is in
these four sections that the improve-
ment of Stony Brook is to be carried
out, in order to construct the exten-
sion of the improved low grade chan-
nel from the present inlet chamber to
join the section already built between
Centre Street bridge and Boylston
street, near Boylston station. There
seems to be now no good reason why
operations should not commence in
the earl}' spring upon the important
work of these sections requiring an
expenditure of $400,000. alone for
Stony Brook, as the plans are com-
pleted and the knotty problems
always involved in the treatment of
Boston's white elephant are prac-
tically solved for this distance.

I: is a source of satisfaction to leave
these avenues with all stumbling
blocks removed and debatable ques-
tions decided, all plans made in ac-
cordance with the policy decided
upon and work commenced upon
even-one of the thirty-eight sections,
except the four above referred to, —
the least part of the work will be the

3°4

ADMINISTRA TION OF A GREA T DEPARTMENT

carrying out of the plans and methods
already formulated.

The paving division laid during
the past year of the most improved
form of pavement upon a concrete
base: 15,153 square yards of granite
blocks against 12,349 the previous
year, — increase, 2,804 square yards,
or nearly 23 percent.; 17,933 square
yards of asphalt against 6,970 in
1S94, — increase of 10,963 square
yards, or over 157 per cent.

Of the more ordinal*}* forms of work,
previous insufficient report makes com-
parison difficult, but during 1S95 quan-
tities are as follows :

Sq. yds.
Granite blocks on gravel base, cement

joint ...... 11,405

Granite blocks on gravel base, gravel

joint 79,055

Round blocks on gravel base (gutters) 32,941
Telford macadam laid . . . .41,945

Other macadam laid .... 642,423

Gravel surface ..... 108,793

Filled and graded only .... 34,962

Brick sidewalk* laid and relaid . . 9-,99^

Artificial stone sidewalks laid . . "-,-95

Crosswalks laid 2,217

Edgestone set and reset, 165,475 lin. ft.

The various financial pockets have
paid for this work as follows :

Expended from Maintenance appro-
priation ..... $683,899.42

Expended from Street improvement

loan ' 636,328.35

Expended from Laying out and con-
struction of highways loan . S5.453.Sr

Expended from Blue Hill and ether

avenues loan .... 65,342.09

The sewer division has built dur-
ing the year more length of sewer
than in any year in its history : this
year 33.24 miles against 21.9 miles
in 1894, — increase 11.3 miles, or over
51 per cent., although the previous
year's construction was the largest
before known. In addition to this
the division constructs, repairs, and

cleans catch-basins and man-holes,
and flushes sewers besides maintain-
ing the main drainage works and
outfall — the most complete in the
country.

Expended from Maintenance appro-
priation $ 2S0, 596.07

Expended from Street improvement

loan 20,872.45

Expended from Laying out and con-
struction of highways loan . 404,162.78

Expended from Blue Hill and uther

avenues loan .... 151,570.44

The bridge division has charge of
the maintenance of 113 bridges, of
which 23 are over tidewater and pro-
vided with draws, and the care and
operation of these is an important
part of the work of the division. It
also has constructive work to do,
paid for by loan inside the debt
limit; and the new steel retractile
draw at Chelsea North,, the renewal
of the Charles River bridge pier, the
rebuilding of Chelsea Street bridge,
and the construction of Cottage Farm
and Gold Street bridges this year
have been the most important of this
class.

Expenditures for maintenance . . $119,716.00
Expenditures from loan ... . 52,471.06

These three divisions — paving, sew-
er, and bridge — are practically the
only ones which have any construc-
tive work to do, and are provided
with money for such purposes by
loan.

The sanitary*, street cleaning, street
watering, and ferry divisions must
exist and give satisfactory public ser-
vice upon the maintenance appropria-
tion and that alone. How well they
have done that during the past year
the following figures show :

The sanitary division removed
388,213 loads of ashes, offal, and

IN THE CITY OF BOSTON.

305

house dirt, besides running- its shops,
repairs, organization of inspection,
etc., for $432,778.52. This is an
increase in the work performed of
10,77s loads, with a decrease of ex-
penditure of S34,6So.50 from last
year, in other words the division ren-
dered 3 per cent, more service while
reducing the cost 7 it per cent.

The street cleaning division has
charge of the cleanliness of the city
in the central portion in which there
are paved streets, namely in seven
districts, while three suburban dis-
tricts, comprising Brighton. West
Roxbury, and Dorchester, are cared
for by the paving division ; the work
performed has resulted in the removal
of 122,544 loads of street sweepings
and cleanings at a cost of $305,998. 50,
an increase in the work performed of
27,066 loads at an increased cost of
$4,521.06, an increase of over 28 per
cent, in work performed with increase
of i}4 per cent, in cost.

The ferry division has expended
$3,076.83 less than last year, ana yet
has since May 1 given the public
three boat service instead of two, at
each ferry, from 7 a. m. to 7 p. m.,
running five minute time during the
busy portion of the day, although a
previous superintendent claimed that
a third boat could only be run for a
couple of hours morning and night if
an additional sum of 55,000 was ap-
propriated. Many permanent im-
provements have also been made to
the ferry property, new passenger
supplementaries, and electric lights
on the drops, slips dredged out, new
life saving skiffs on the boats, the
cost of which was charged to the
maintenance account.

The street watering division has
this year watered 307.49 miles during

the season at a cost of $76,424.70, an
increase in service of 10.83 miles and
decrease in cost of 510,744.40 or 3!;,
per cent more service for 125J per
cent, less expenditure.

The central office of the depart-
ment is in charge of an executive en-
gineer under the immediate super-
vision of the superintendent and is
practically a division in itself ; under
his eye the schedules of the accounts
of the different divisions are kept, all
contracts are here advertised and ex-
ecuted, all complaints entered and
forwarded, and the public received.
A legislative clerk keeps the depart-
ment in touch with the legislative
function of the government, draws all
orders which the department wishes
introduced, and represents the super-
intendent at the meetings and hear-
ings of these bodies and their com-
mittees.

A purchasing clerk, by methods
newly introduced, now buys by requi-
sition all goods wanted by all divi-
sions after having the superintend-
ent's approval ; bills for the same are
rendered by a system of duplicate
vouchers and monthly statements on
forms provided by the department and
before being forwarded for payment
the signature has been obtained of
the foreman receiving, the chief clerk
of the division ordering, the deputy
superintendent, purchasing clerk, and
tht superintendent of streets ; respon-
sibility is thus fully fixed for order,
receipt, quality, and price.

These methods resulted in reducing
the percentage paid for bills of the
total expenditure from 491!, per cent.
to 42 J, and thus increasing the
amount spent in actual labor on the
streets from 50,0 per cent, to 5710 per
cent.: this of course meant increased

306

THE PIANIST.

service for the money expended, and
the maintenance of the entire depart-
ment has been conducted with a total
saving of $111,664.41 over last year.

During the few weeks immediately
following my resignation and a
change of administration in February
last, the department was convulsed
by the political changes that took
place ; the deputies, whose faithful,
conscientious, and vigorous support
had been given me, fell by the way-
side by the immediate hand of an offi-
cial who, after six days in office, dis-
covered that the men who had been
faithful to the city's best interest for
a year, as none of their predecessors
had ever been, were no longer worthy
of his confidence.

Thus a department carrying on
nearly all the public works of a great
city is a political bauble, and its ma-
chinery is deprived of its component
parts of honest}-, ability, and experi-

ence, which has been shown to have
given the best service ever performed,
to give place to defeated political can-
didates and political workers, as a
reward for services rendered.

This important department should
be still further enlarged ; it should in-
clude the lamp department and the
water department when this has only
the distributing system in its charge,
as It soon will have, owing to the
operation of the Metropolitan Water
bill.

It will then include all constructive
departments in the public streets of
the city, and responsibility therefor
will b\e full}- fixed ; it should then be
organized as the department of pub-
lic wo7rks, with a single commissioner
with :a three or five year term of
office:: and then, and not till then,
will it be removed from the arena of
politics, and give the best returns to
the citizens of Boston.

THE PIANIST.

By Samuel Hoyt.

I marvel at her wondrous art,

The while she strikes responsive keys ;
I hear the riot of the storm,

The ripple of melodious seas.

To-night her subtle hanis invoke

What dwells not in the written score —

This strange, sweet pathos never filled
These dear, familiar strains before.

A tender pulse of tone-lifie creeps

Through all the chords, as if there stole

The spirit of a master neiar

And lent to them his Eving; soul.

SOME PASSING THOUGHTS OX LITERATURE.

By Milo Benedict.

IX what lies the characteristic charm
possessed by any fine book ? It
is not in the subject treated, not
in the fineness of the language used,
but in the indefinable attractions of
the personality behind the pen.
There are brilliant and otherwise
gifted writers who seem to possess
no power that may be transmitted to
others from which they may derive a
kind of strength or help. These
writers are often witty, picturesque
in style, happy in expression, and
voluminous in thought — a kind of
thought without much color in it
(the pages of certain books seem to
me full of genuine colors, changing
from one hue to another with dream-
like uncertainty, while the pages of
other books which are still distinctly
literary in character are pale, unsug-
gestive, having no power over the
imagination, no vivifying vitality).
I imagine such writers possessing in
a certain degree the very instincts of
the literary mind, yet lacking the
deeper and essentially moral qualities
which, if added, would give a real
and permanent value to their work.
I imagine them reading a truly great
man with a kind of despair at his
superior force, or else reading him
without any sense of his greatness at
all.

Then there are those who, having
very lively mental faculties and un-
usual technical skill in grammar and

rhetoric, imagine themselves trie
equals of those greatly their supe-
riors in the richer elements of charac-
ter. I have in mind some brilliant
French writers whose books could
not communicate a fine sentiment,
and from which one could derive no
particular benefit save that casual
one through the exercise obtained in
the mere process of reading. You
may diligently study their work and
may mistake the laborious acquisi-
tion of their thought for something
stimulating and beneficial to your-
self, and so believe yourself richer
than you really are. You have sim-
ply lost the right point of view. You
may see, if your eyes see through the
dross, that there is nothing beyond
the words, nothing of that indefin-
able power which comes as refresh-
ment from the hands of great men —
something of priceless worth which
lies even above and beyond every-
thing that is said. One does not
have to read much to find out those
who write with their heads only. I
cannot be allured by a fine sentence
or two, or by the appearance of a
new word. The tone, the ground-
work, is what is looked for and
chiefly considered in a picture. The
same should be looked for and con-
sidered in the work of a writer.

In much that is written for the
magazines nowadays there is a sin-
gular and almost painful sense of

3oS

SOME PASSING THOUGHTS ON LITERATURE.

emptiness, a want of purpose, a des-
perate fear of being taken seriously,
yet with no perceptible sense of hu-
mor. In the majority of short stories
there appears to be no other motive
than to make pictures — pictures from
which you can express no juice, no
sentiment, no dominating idea. Even
the poets (the new ones) have simply
gone into picture making, in which
art they are not nearly so successful
as the pocket kodak.

Now we do not like always to find
a moral pinned on to everything.
And it is just the trouble with infe-
rior minds that they never have a
moral except one they can fasten with
a pin — something separate and de-
tachable, obvious and insignificant.
But the truly great writers do not
hand down their morals, nor put
them up in packages of convenient
sizes for home consumption. The
morality is intrinsically a part of
their thought, a quality of their char-
acter inseparable from themselves, a
portion of which they always give
when they give anything. It is this
we delight in, the sense of being up-
lifted by the author's influence ; and
it matters little whether we receive
that influence through written words
or through personal intercourse with
the author himself, his personality in
a way pervades ours. Should he
simply excel in writing, we may not
expect to find so much in his table-
talk or his manners ; but if he should
be of a social temperament like Dr.
Johnson, we may be influenced more
by his appearance, manners, and con-
versation than by the reading of his
books. Should he happen to be an
orator, his voice, his bearing, and stage
manners may be taken into account as
much as the substance of what he says.

So often are we asked to read this
book or that, this one containing a
short story, that one a new novel,
perhaps one with a newly discovered
law in social science to puzzle over
and theorize upon. But why read a
story for the story ? That is nothing
more than to be amused by motion.
That is to be purely mechanical. As
for my own predilections, I can read
a story only when the writer's habit
of mind has a charm for me. If he
can throw a clearer light on charac-
ter, if he can paint with fine and
pure colors, if he can assist his read-
ers to arrive at a state of more civil-
izing gentleness, if he can produce
an atmosphere or bring us something
of the wealth of summer, then he
may be well nigh indispensable. But
if he has only a story to tell, and can
impart no higher pleasure than that
of moving people about as in a game
of chess, then his book is worse than
superfluous.

I can go to my table and pick up
any book lying there and find all the
art and wisdom of the novelist put to
shame. It is foolish to rest in the
delusion that the reputation of the
novelist is a sufficient guarantee for
the inherent excellence of his book.
I must be made aware of his excel-
lence as one is made aware of a
shower by getting wet. I must be
assisted to behold a larger field of
truth, or the approach to it at least.
Now a few lines from any one of the
immortals makes common writing as
dead as ashes. A little of. Emerson,
or a little of Browning, whose
thoughts, as some one has remarked,
are all images, gives one a gallery of
fine pictures which are always brae-

SOME PASSING THOUGHTS ON LITERATURE.

3°9

ing and fresh. Burroughs takes his
reader by the hand, leads him
abroad, and gives him a new breath
of life from the source where the
sap comes from. What unsuspected
charms are in the fields ! Words-
worth makes all things look grand ;
and DeOuineey electrifies one with
something of a sense of the satisfac-
tion he must have enjoyed in pos-
sessing so full and commanding an
intellect. Much of Milton suggests
the radiance of vast cloud structures
shining in the sun, or the pomp and
richness of Bach's greatest organ
fugues. Landor marches through
old museums of stately antiquities,
giving the hard letters in stone a new
lustre and meaning. Lamb writes
for the ancients to the delight of the
moderns. Hazlitt somehow keeps
up an excitement while never losing
sight of the charms of prose. Hunt
teaches men the advantages of cheer-
fulness. Thoreau makes the soul
stronger by teaching it to be inde-
pendent and far sighted.

With these, besides many other
favorites belonging to our own Amer-
ica — Lowell, Holmes, Curtis, Whit-
man, Whittier, Brooks — how can one
bend to the every-day story writer ?
Can one be edified by shaking dice ?
After reading five hundred stories
can one be surprised by the five
hundred and first? And yet, as all
this signifies, if the teller has some-
thing more to tell than his story, if
he has genius, imagination, spiritual
insight, he is obviously worth read-
ing.

III.

And as for novels — still deluging
the book marts like a cataclysm of
ice over a dam at the breaking up
of the season, books with covers to

catch the eye, and advertised like
soaps and blood purifiers — is it to be
wondered at that the patient critics
lose their patience, drop off with
fatigue at the sight of the stack, and
refuse to dispense their canons of
judgment which the authors await
with anxiety and the public receive
with indifference. Indeed, one of the
ablest of critics has recently avowed
his protest by taking up as a means
of keeping his mental health, the re-
freshing study of apple culture. If
the majority of those who write
novels would occasionally cool their
fevers in the pursuit of this whole-
some and clarifying stud)-, what an
increase of sobriety and common-
sense might be fused into the ele-
ments of the novel itself.

The public no longer listens to be
told that novels are indispensable and
important and wield an immense and
increasing influence. The public has
found them charming, powerful, use-
ful. For centuries the world has
wanted the novel, but could not, for
the lack of a little ingenuity, describe
the thing it wanted. It was left for
the writers to discover the taste, and
having found it, to stimulate it, pam-
per it, encourage it till, from cautious
nibbling at the deceitful page, it grew
into a robust appetite with a demand
for huge mouthfuls of the same ; and
now at this present da}' has a capacity
to dispose of every variety of novel
from the coarsest to the finest without
the slightest inconvenience. There
is no denying the fascination and
pleasure that await the reader as he
steps out of his own sublunary world
into the new and m)'sterious world
some great fictionist has compressed
between two flat pieces of paste-board.
But the great fictionist is a rare per-

3io

THE FAIRY KING.

son, while novels are almost blocking
the highways.

And what remarkable tact the or-
dinary novelists exhibit in their haste
to eateh attention. They let loose
their little excitements like a litter of
pigs all over the first page, and there
is no getting away from the noisome
tilings. It turns out to be a regular
trade and trick. The very fact
that they hope so hard to sell their
wares belies their honesty and sincere
devotion to their art. All lower in-
terests are ruinous to a good style
and must be so. Among the many
new writers — and what a throng there
are — who have cut a brilliant first
dash there remains not one, according
to our observation, who has not de-

generated with the increase of his
popularity and success. Make money
and popularity a motive in your work
and you are doomed to drop quickly
and silently out of the grand republic
of letters as a scurf and a charlatan.
Hven the man who seeks to do a great
and notable performance in literature
h\ T taking a great and complex theme
runs the risk of being cast aside if his
style fails to bear him out creditably
to the end. But his style can rarely
fail so long as his thoughts and pur-
poses are too strong to give way to
consciousness of expression. To
write and be conscious of how you
write is bad. It is enough to be con :
scious of what you write. That is a
consciousness to be cultivated.

THE FAIRY KING.
By Ex-Governor Moody Currier

Down beneath a rocky summit,

Where a creeping brooklet runs,
In the burning days of summer,

Oft a wandering footstep comes.

Then before that sleeping maiden,
Fairy phantom visions rise;

Wondrous worlds of love and beauty
Float before her dreamy eyes.

There beneath the drooping branches,
Where the timid mosses spread,

Where the cooling shadows gather,
Oft reclines a weary head.

In the silent sleeping fountain,

Whence the bubbling waters spring,

Dwells a tiny shining spirit,
Once a fairy sceptered king.

In the days of magic wonder,
When the demons ruled the air,

By their potent spells they bound him,
Bound his life forever there.

When beside that silent brooklet
Once those wandering footsteps tread

When upon that mossy pillow
Once reclines that weary head,

Then that tiny shining spirit,
Rising in its robes of white,

Shines above the creeping shadows,
Like a living cloud of light.

Then the golden gates lie open,
Angel forms are robed in light ;

When, alas! the astonished maiden
Wakes before the wondrous sight.

Then that shining spectre shadow
Fades away in empty air,

To its caverned home retiring,
Dwells alone forever there.

Then the maiden homeward going
Thinks the vision from above ;

While within her swelling bosom
Cnpid fans the flames of love.

So the dreams of life around us
Flit like beams of silver light ;

When we wake, the golden splendor
Melts away in shades of night.

Still we seek the baseless phantoms,
Still their shadowy forms pursue ;

Never find the life that 's real,
Never find the good and true.

>■ v-M*,.^

tdtiaLitej — ~~-

.. _ .-,* *$$■ ...

Mt. Lafayette from Sunset Hill House.

LISBON.

By George H. Moses.

THE year when Lisbon town
Saw the earth open and gulp her down

Was past, eight years past, before
our Lisbon was born and christened
with the name which now adorns the
capital of the state. August 6, 1763,
Joseph Burt and others received a
grant of the territory now comprising
Lisbon under the name of Concord,
and scarcely a six-month had elapsed
before another grant, bearing the
name of Chiswick, was made, em-
bracing much of the same territory.
Both grants were forfeited, however,
by the failure of the grantees to make
the required settlements, and five

years after the date of the first char-
ter another was issued, this third
change in ownership involving a
third change in title, from which the
town emerged bearing the eupho-
nious name of Gunthwaite. But
even this was not sufficient, it seems,
for, twenty years later, the town was
known in state documents as ' ' Con-
cord, alias Gunthwaite," and some
forty years still later a fourth name
was chosen, and by act of legislature
the place was christened by the name
it now bears — Lisbon.

These abrupt and sudden vicissi-
tudes of nomenclature were accom-

312

LISBON.

panied by equally varied fortune.
The first five years of its life the
place had a mere paper existence.
It formed part of Benning Went--
worth's great colonizing scheme and
that was all. The speculators to
whom the charter had been granted

ing and Major John Young of Haver-
hill, Massachusetts, some settlements
were made while yet the Revolution
was pending.

The return of peace, however,
meant the beginning of prosperity
for the infant settlement on the Am-

•- . ■ ■

£&

i iu '

.•"-*.

:~ ■]

iS£&3 ? *"> — - -

! : - El"-

fifffiliiP'f ! TV.

rsr^

Sunset Hill House and Cottages

did nothing to improve their prop-
erty, and the men of the second
grant, though more energetic than
their predecessors, were able to do
but little owing to the state of war
which arose soon after they came
into possession of the tract. Never-
theless there was some progress,
though it was slow, and through the
influence of Captain Leonard Whit-

monoosuc, and within a few years of
the surrender at Yorktown at least
twoscore families were on the ground
together with what one historian in-
forms us was "a respectable contin-
gent of bachelors."

The greater flood of this immigra-
tion w r axed and waned during the
first year following the end of the
war, and thereafter settled down into

LISBON.

3*3

a steady annual increase of popula-
tion which, it may be remarked with
truth, has continued till the present,
a slow but sure addition to the town's
prosperity and importance.

But the sweets of life were tasted
with a liberal admixture of the bit-

< -

XfiPfe-ji » i

y ,

.■ 1 -..

— -

Hotel Look-Off.

ter, and no sooner had the vigor and
enterprise of the new proprietors
begun to make themselves manifest
in the undoubted permanent advance
of the new settlement than a multi-
tude of conflicting claims arose,
growing out of the town's varied
mutations of name and ownership
during those early years, filled with
both inactivity and with war when

first the unwonted sloth of the gran-
tees and then the tremendous activity
of the whole people bent on securing
liberty for themselves and their pos-
terity had prevented a proper devel-
opment of the community's advan-
tages.

The original grantees, spurred by
covetous regard of the prosperity of
the place which they had been too
lazy to cultivate, now came forward
to assert the validity of the first royal
grant, and, it is hinted with some
emphasis, made some sort of a com-
promise or bargain with some of the

influential citizens by means of which
they were able to exert an added
pressure upon the less fortunate.
Prolonged litigation was opened and
the culmination came in the sus-
taining of the Concord charter, and
the original Concord proprietors made
mercy on the prosperity of their
Gimthwaite successors who were at
one fell stroke deprived not only of
the fruits of their industry but of
their original investment as well.
The despoiled settlers were well
aware that the}' had been overcome
by bulldozing and fraud, but there
was no open revolt. Such of them
as were able repurchased their farms,
but many abandoned everything and
sought lodgment in Canada or in
other townships further north. The
memory of the disgraceful judgment
faded awav and was finallv obliter-

: -

■ . ..

■Ji*^.':':.^^ - ^'-^wi^L

The Look-Off Spring.

ated by another change of name by
which, the village took its present title.
First principles ruled in those
early days, and the soil was the first,
last., and, for a long time, the only
resomrce. The intervales along the
Ammonoosuc were soon cleared and
their productive humus readily re-
sponded to the husbandman's efforts.
The hills in the eastern portion of

3i4

LISBON.

the township after being- shorn of the
hard-wood timbers which protected
them showed the possession of a
rich soil which amply repaid the
scanty toil its crops demanded.
Other industries were slow to pros-
per and even slower to appear. Tim-
ber was plentiful, and aside from the

■ n k •

i- -:

- i

small amount needed for houses in
the immediate locality commanded
no market. The necessary grist-mill
was early put in operation through
the enterprise of Captain Leonard
Whiting, the capable promoter of the
Gncthwaite settlement, and the water
privilege then developed on Burn-
ham's brook, so named for an eccen-
tric hermit who made successive
moves from its mouth to its source
to escape advancing civilization, has
never yet been permitted to fall into
idleness.

Agriculture, however, did not sat-
isfy .all, and there were those who
sougjht to enrich themselves faster by
delving deeper into Mother Earth's
bosom. Before the close of the
3ast century and ere the settle-
ment had reached its majority,
iron ore of a superior grade was
discovered on a hill in the south-
eastern part of the town near the
Franconia boundary, and soon
after a small smelting works was
set in operation. The venture
proved a profitable one, and as
early as 1S10 the attention of
capitalists was called to
the enterprise and their
\ cooperation was secured.
The New Hampshire Iron

, - i i j i

_ ■ - ^.-^.l .7'"--'"--. -;\\

Blood's Peg-m II. Moore's Peg-mill. Parker & Young Mfg. Co. BJanchard's Mill. J. K. Atwood's Bobbin-mill.

L/SBOX.

3*5

Factor) ^Company was formed
to develop the business, and on
a near-by stream in Franconia
power was secured and a smelter
and foundry were built. This
extension of the enterprise
proved to be wise, and for
thirty years the business was
carried on, for most of that
time at a considerable profit.
By that time, however, the
pressure of competition from
the Alleghany mines began to make
itself felt, and the furnace fires in
Franconia were extinguished, ly-
ing dead for nearly twenty years.
Then some timorous souls made an-
other trial, but were soon crushed
out, and the end of the New Hamp-
shire iron industry was reached al-
most simultaneously with the out-
break of the Rebellion. The decaying
buildings remained, until about ten
years ago, to remind travellers of the
rise and fall of an enterprise that
could not be acclimated.

The precious metals as well were
sought in these granite hills which
hem in the village, and some thirty
years ago, after the iron mines had
proven a final failure, the discovery
of a bit of free gold in some quartz
rock in a hill not far from the town
threw the community into wild ex-
citement. This single specimen was
followed by others found nearby and
without the town as well, and eager
capital was quick to seize the oppor-
tunity thus presented. Mining com-
panies sprung up, and shafts were
thickly thrust down into the bowels
of the hills. Gold was actually pro-
duced, though the amount taken out
of the ground was far exceeded by
that which was put in. It is stated
that no less than a million and a

Breezy Hill House.

half of dollars were sunk in the at-
tempt to work the gold veins in Lis-
bon and nearby towns and in the
speculation which succeeded the first
brief period of mining endeavor.
Gold there is, no doubt; but
greatly improved methods of mining
and reducing must be discovered or
developed before the scanty percen-
tage of the precious metal can be
loosened from its flinty bondage to
make mining profitable in New
Hampshire. Along with gold and
iron other metals, notably copper,
have been found in this region, and
a well-known geological authority
frankly gives his opinion that the
copper veins in this locality will one
day be made the source of employ-
ment at a good profit. Limestone is
also. freely found in some spots within
the Lisbon radius, and the manufac-

1 :

ba ;

Ecto Farm.

t>i6

LISBON,

ture of lime was once an industrial
feature here.

But, pending improved methods,
the gold is securely bound up in the
hills, and perhaps its presence here
can now claim as its best result the
penning of an interesting drama, ' l New
Hampshire Gold," which has lately
come from the desk of a Lisbon writer,
and was produced by talent claiming

3 u SM-.^ "~^-*^, 2

Lisbon as a temporary home it least.
The picturesque movement .vhich
was set on foot by the goh excite-
ment has vanished, yet in one way
the enthusiasts of thirty years ago
were right : There is gold in the hills
around about Lisbon, but it cannot
be had by plunging deep into the
vitals of the mountains to follow the
slender, precious threads through the
masses of quartz. It may be found
instead on the outside, on the slopes
and on the crests, in the glens and on
the crags where it is left by the
most ^welcome and most profitable
army of invaders that ever took
i captive a community, the great
host of summer visitors who an-
nually swarm into this hill-girt
town in search of health and
pleasure.

The summer business is
not an old one in Lisbon as
such things go and
though the straggling
van-guard, ot the great
army of boarders estab-
lished feeble outposts
here in hospitable
homes many years

ibrary Building.

Methodist Cnurch

Congregational Church.

LISBON

3*7

..-•■f\

*~^_

I , J

^m,

fe££S

J. K. Atwood.
N.' G English.

L. C. Payne.
C. L. Wallace.

George F. Morris.
F. E. Thorpe.

ago, it is scarcely more than fifteen
years since the noble crest of Sugar
Hill was first capped with a hotel
and a determined effort made to en-
tice visitors in large numbers to the
enjoyment of the most superb moun-
tain view to be found in all New
England.

Enticement proved easy, and, with
constant additions, extensions, an-
nexes, and cottages, this pioneer
house, the Sunset Hill House, has
developed into one of the largest and
best summer resorts in the east.
Filled each year with patrons who
by their annual return have enti-
tled themselves to at least a legal
summer residence here, the Sunset
Hill House in number and character

of its clientele and in admitted supe-
riority of management, equipment,
and cuisine has few equals. All this,
of course, has required effort, despite
the paramount scenic attractions
which the locality afforded and it is
doubtful if any hotel, in the moun-
tains or out of them, has had a larger
measure of more sagacious, tactful,
and persistent personal attention than
has been devoted to this property by
the moving spirit in the enterprise,
Mr. Seth F. Hoskins, of the firm of
Bowles and Hoskins, the owners of
the Sunset Hill estate. Mr. Hoskins
is closely and thoroughly identified
with Lisbon affairs. For many years
before venturing into landlordism he
was engaged in business in the village

31.3

LISBON.

r ff§

r,fs

casino. These are filled each year
with visitors whose interest in the de-
velopment of the place has taken
active and permanent form, in coop-
eration with the guests of the hotels,
by the purchase of an extensive grove
near by which has been cleared up
and developed, traversed by paths and

St. Matthews Cnurcn, Sugar Kill.

below and for a portion of the time he
was postmaster of Lisbon. His fam-
ily name is vitally connected with the
region, his father, Hon. Luther B.
Hoskins, having been prominent in
politics three decades ago and having
sat as a member of Governor Fred-
erick Smyth's council. Associated
in the management of the hotel is Mr.
Hoskins' s son who promises to sus-
tain in the third generation the repu-
tation of his family established by his
father and grandfather.

Around the Sunset Hill House has
sprung up a lively summer hamlet of
artistic cottages whose life centers
about the hotel and its pavilions and

i 1

w l I

M H

1 1 i j

1 1

Westinghouse Cottage.

Free Baptist Church, Sugar Hill.

adorned with pavilions, and offering
grateful shade and pleasing beauty to
all visitors.

Close by is another house, the
Hotel Look-Off, more lately built
though less capacious, where in addi-
tion to other attractions is offered the
inducement of a mineral spring, the
waters of which have been
found to possess marked
curative power and which
will be put upon the
market in bottled form,
both still and aerated.
For this purpose a stock
company has recently
been formed which has

LISBON.

3i9

Davis Cottage.

assumed also the con-
trol of the hotel prop-
erty, the whole being
under the management
of Mr. Hiram Noyes, a
•veteran boniface of the
mountain region who
numbers his friends by
thousands. Mr. Noyes
perceives the commer-
cial possibilities of the enterprise mcar hotels, the Breezy Hill House,
with which he is associated, and is bu£lt in iSS3 % and now owned by
devoting himself assiduously to the Messrs. Wells & Woolson. With its
development of each phase of the cotltages it affords accommodation for
business. a Iranndred guests, and its lovely situ-

On the other side of Sunset Hill aticixii has had its natural beauties en-
and down the slope a mile to the haraeed by the hand of man.
east, stands the well known Good- ITulike most towns of summer re-
sort, repute, Lisbon boasts also an
excellent " all-the-year " hotel, Brig-
harci's, at the village, where a thor-
oughly modern house is managed in
thorough!)' modern style by S. H.
Brigham & Son, the senior member
of tfhe firm making an avocation of
politics, in which field he has won
honors and suffered defeat, but has
always managed to turn up smiling
at ttlie next attempt.

Lisbon village is a busy place.
Lying along both banks of the
brawling Ammonoosuc, with lofty
terraees springing back from the

now House, now the Franconia Inn
which was the first lar^e boarding-

.-"

- K

L —

J&*mm .... . .jJe»*iL.

Advent Cnurch, Sugar Hill.

house built within the limits of the
town of Lisbon, and which has main-
tained an excellent reputation and
commanded an extensive patronage
from the first.

And, perched on a commanding
hilltop, still further to the east stands
the latest addition to Lisbon's sum-

'■ ■■ ' ^

Oal-es Cottage, Sugar Hill.

320

LISBON.

streets and lined with handsome
houses, it is well located for both
business and residence. Its manu-
factures are unique. Foremost
among its industrial establishments
is the Parker & Young Manufactur-
ing Co., a corporation founded by the
late Mr. Charles Parker, and under
his leadership successfully facing and
overcoming the misfortunes entailed
by three disastrous fires, each of
which would have been sufficient to
daunt a less courageous and saga-
cious man.

This company, rising from its last
ashes with a modern and model plant
comprising everything in the way of
equipment, is now engaged in the
production of lumber and house fin-
ish of all kinds and in the manufac-
ture of piano sounding-boards and
frames, their output of sounding-
boards last year having numbered
40,000. This unique industry was
located here many years ago in the
desire to place the manufacture as
close as possible to the source of
supply which the adjacent forests of

-■■■ 1 1 tit s
1 ......

1 )

■■.'J : '".■.-: ** xv-v- ■ --- • v

g . .. . -^sb*

J' • : \A < - .'. !

a - ___- ,_ ^ _ *" jj j

■ . .

H. C. Ubby

Mrs. W. H. CuroiYiings.

James Mocre.
h B. Moulton. A. A. Woo

LISBON.

321

Bank Bloc

Payne's Bloc

White Mountain spruce afforded.
From small beginnings it has grown
to large things, and under the man-
agement of Hon. Herbert B. Moul-
ton, who came to the post after Mr.
Parker's death, the company seems
bound to push on to even greater
fortune. This enterprise is the larg-
est in the place and gives employ-
ment to more than one hundred and
twenty-five hands, while its plant
occupies several acres of ground and
for its raw material demands the
product of a large tract of forest
area. From its shipping-room there
go out each year to the factories
of the leading piano makers in the
country the resonant tympana of Xew
Hampshire, yet reverberating with
the murmurs of the forest and waiting:

Brigham's Hotel.
Wells & Woolson Blocl

to be wakened into thunderous har-
monies under the fingers of a Fade-
rewski.

Pegs and bobbins constitute the
remainder of the village industry,
leading the country in the annual
production of the latter, Mr. J. K.
Atwood being the largest producer
of rough bobbins in America, his
output numbering 16,000,000 yearly
and requiring the employment of
twenty-five persons. This enterprise
is one that has never slackened its
activity during the recent hard times,
the proprietor's long connection with
the business and intimate knowledge
of the trade bringing him a surfeit of
orders when others were running; on

322

LISBON.

*&&

. f

: £

■

1 -- *^p

i -4 '

***"-«».

->>

V \

(

,<£ *s

Hon. H. B. Moulton.
Hon. W. H.Cummings.
Dr. C. H. Boynton.

I. B. Ar.drews.
Hon. E. 0. Rand.
S. F. Hoskins.

A. C. Wells.

Hon. A. A. Woolson.

S. H. Brigham.

short time or were shut down alto-
gether.

To supply its peg-mills Lisbon lays
tribute on the birch trees for a sweep
of fifty miles in every direction and
two men, O. D. Moore and Aretas
Blood, are concerned in the owner-

ship and direction of the industry.
The product is handled wholly by
machinery and is shipped altogether
abroad, Germany making a ready
market.

These are the chief dependencies of
the place industrial!}'. Local saw-

LISBON.

323

mills and grist-mills add their mite to
the town's sum of activity, but the
other tentative enterprises of the vill-
age, the flouring mill, the manufac-
ture of whetstones and the like, have
sunk to nothingness. With an ample
supply of raw material spread all
about and a growing market easily
reached, the substantial industries
which remain are assured of perma-
nence and prosperity.

Xot less fortunate in other direc-
tions Lisbon boasts one of the best
high schools in New England pre-
sided over by an educator whose pres-
tige and skill are known throughout
the state, to be moderate. A well-
stocked public library slakes the
thirsty mind of the general public ;
churches of four denominations min-
ister to religious needs through all
the year, while at Sugar Hill a fifth
provides its offices during the summer
months for the devout visitor. Pure
water courses through an ample net-
work of mains and the glittering elec-
tric light turns darkness into da}'.
Thrift is stamped everywhere and en-
terprise is always apparent.

Lisbon has not been selfish, how-
ever, and while doing much for her-
self has never failed adequately to
discharge her duty to others. While
her sons and citizens have praise-
worthily devoted themselves to ad-
vancing their own and Lisbon's in-
terests they have found and improved
occasions for promoting the public
welfare, one citizen of the town en-
tailing a debt upon posterity by
reason of his services in behalf of
religious freedom. This man, the

Rev. Dan Youni

a Methodist

preacher, was five times elected to
the state senate and his term of
service covered the entire length of

the controversy which resulted in
the passage of the Toleration Act, a
bit of legislation which the reverend
legislator devoted himself chiefly to
promote, and upon the passage of
which he suddenly terminated his
senatorial career by removing from
the state.

In one of the larger circles of ac-
tivity in which a native of Lisbon
moved was the Hon. Lorenzo Sabine,
a sometime member of congress from
Maine, whose life was largely spent
in the public service, though his
wanderings into the field of literature
were wide and frequent enough to
win him the approbation of Harvard
college and to give secured repute.
Akin to him in this regard was the
Hon. Edward D. Rand, at one time
a member of New Hampshire's
supreme court, who though winning
smiles from a jealous mistress, the
law, was prompted, nevertheless, to
flirt with the poetic muse, and his
verse, collected now and published,
gives evidence of ability of no mean
order — a talent, by the way, to
which his daughter, Miss Katherine
E. Rand, has fallen heir and has
improved, giving to the world evi-
dences of her genius in both novel-
and pi ay- writing.

To the governor's council, to the
railroad commission in the olden time
when that board was chosen by pop-
ular suffrage, to the state senate, and
to all the departments of the pub-
lic administration, Lisbon has given
her sons. Among those who have
adorned high stations and who still
remain in active usefulness in town
affairs is the Hon. Augustus A.
Woolson, who, twenty years ago,
presided over the lower house of the
legislature. Among those now de-

324

LISBON.

■

V.,-,i.t:-. **»»

A Shady Road, Sugar (Hi

parted, but whose name still lingers
and whose works do follow him, is
the Hon. William H. Cummings,
for many years easily the town's
most prominent citizen, whose won-
derful business activity and public
spirit impressed itself upon the whole
Ammonoosuc valley for more than a
quarter of a century, and who, though
being dead, yet speaketh through the
medium of public improvements with
which the memory of his enterprise is
linked, and which but for him might
never have been secured.

But nowadays man is subordinated
to nature in this lovely place, and
whatever may be their merits they
must pale before the transcendent
glories of the everlasting hills and
the eternal forests. It is fairly claimed
that the view from Sugar Hill is the
finest to be had from any point in the
mountains. The entire presidential
range reaches out before the ridge on
the one side, the perspective going
from Starr King to the majestic cone
of Washington across a succession of
mighty peaks, while nearer stretch
the crests of the Franconia range,
ornamented in the early summer with

the vast white cross of snow. On the
other hand rise the Green mountains,
beyond a beautiful vista of mead and
vale and terraced hill. Touched with
the brilliant finger of an autumn
frost this scene is one of supernal
glory, and when the horizontal rays
of the setting sun fling down the
broad parallel bars of shade on hill
and vale and closer gather the fugi-
tive vanguards of the army of shadow
so soon to overpower the land, and
the clouds have caught the last ex-
piring ray and beautified it beyond
expression — then stand upon these
holiday hills and see how the eve-
ning clouds suffuse with sunset and
drop down to become fixed in solid
form. See the rainbow fade upon
the mountains and leave its mantle
there. See the east aglow, the north
flush with radiance, the west stand-
ing i a burnished armor, the south
buckling the zone of the horizon
together with emeralds and rubies,
of gazing there can never be enough.
The hunger of the eye grows with
feeding and can never be appeased.
Before ah this what is man that any
one should be mindful of him ?

,«W

'ST^

SWEET MAY.

i>/ Frances H. Perry.

Maiden May is come to town,
In her dainty springtime gown,
Bringing fragrant, blushing blossoms,

Dewy-fresh, for you and me;
Oh, she 's fair and very sweet,
Newly clothed from head to feet;
Sweetest maid of sunny spring

We all agree.

THE LEGEND OF JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE.

[continued.]
By E. P. Temuy.
CHAPTER XXL

AS the season wore away it could
but be noticed by Mary Glasse's
friends that she became more
and more like John Levin, save as to
distinctively moral traits, in which
no two could be more unlike each
other. And she failed not to recog-
nize in herself a tendency to soften
the estimate in which he was held
by the most who had occasion to
know him. Did not her heart un-
derstand him, as if she were akin?
Whatever he said or did awakened
in her mind an echo. If any one
had said to her that she had known
John Levin in far off eons of time
prior to the earthly experience, it
would have won credit with her. So
that, if she had at first been impul-
sive, inconstant, toward John Levin,
she had now come in the autumn to
a settled determination to lay aside
all other life plans and devote herself
to him. Still the moral chasm be-
tween them, as well as the warning
finger of the dead, constituted an
absolute bar to their marriage, — at
least in Mary's mind ; and for the
present Mr. Levin said nothing fur-
ther on that point.

But he, who had never failed to
have his own way soon or late, had
not the shadow of a question as to
the final outcome. Superstitious as
he was in some respects, he knew
nothing of Mary's night visions, yet

the moral bar he was acute to recog-
nize. And with jealous mind and
keen perception of the fitness of
things, he knew that Mary Glasse
had spiritually much more in com-
mon with Raymond Foote than with
himself. Although he knew little
from Mary as to her relation to Ray-
mond, he should know some day;
and him he would take care of, upon
grounds and by methods already
known to him.

" If Mary, first or last," said Levin
to himself, "is not modified by my
views of life, it is possible that my
own ideas may change somewhat.
We shall approach each other."

So that, in any event, he who had
always been at one with fate, be-
lieved it to be a mere question of
time when Mary would become his
wife. Why should he have at thirty-
five more ground for haste in marry-
ing than some years earlier? He
could easily wait her time, and do it
contentedly, being much in her com-
pany.

Yet he must have had a hard time
to get on with Mary. If it had been
with her a nice calculation of chances
for matrimony, she might have missed
it. It was on her part not love con-
jugal, or even love engagatorial, but
love theological — love to being. To
this particular John she did indeed
cleave ; but who can imagine how

LEGEND OF JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE.

John must have felt when he was
tired, and went a-courting lor recrea-
tion. If Mary did not happen to be
boiling over with fun, she might take
such a turn that Levin's call would
prove like an attempt to court Broth-
er Hammersmith. Not unlikely she
might propound such a conundrum
as this, — vl If I love you. John Levin,
must I not hate that which is injuri-
ous to you? "

And most ' likely she would con-
strue what is ''injurious" by her
own notion, not his; and set out to
undo any or all of his affairs, which.
in their moral relations were injuri-
ous to others, and so injurious to him
by rebound.

That was just what Mary Glasse
did for John Levin. If she heard of
his doing injustice to any, she went
straightway and made friends, and
put his ill action in as charitable a
light as possible, and did all within
her power to set right the wrong.
And she even fancied that she could
set the truth in place of one-twentieth
part of his deliberate lies. A strange
affection ; dutiful and perhaps beau-
tiful, but no ordinary conjugal love
was that.

"Do grant me, John, what I want
instead of what I do not want," said
Mary, when Mr. Levin suggested that
she might be free from her engage-
ment if she so desired. " I want no
release from plight to you, unless
I am released by your playing me
false and marrying the widow ! Who
knows? I ought, however, to release
you, if I will fix no date. You are
at liberty. But if I desire no free-
dom to marry another, do let me
persecute you by befriending you
in what I fancy you most need be-
friending."

" Exactly," replied John Levin, m>t
without feeling nettled.

The nineteenth of October was a
resplendent day, when Norton's ship-
yard launched the Good Luck for John
Levin. The Good Luck touched the
water with heart of oak to enter upon
her lonely path in far off seas. Near
nightfall John Levin wandered alone
over the grey ledges upon the west
of Abraham Gale's farm, whence he
could see the purple — almost blood-
tinged — waters toward Glasse Head.
And when the harbor mouth changed
to ashen gray, he lay down upon the
rocks, unconscious of evil in having
launched a slaver.

Mary Glasse upon her headland
wais praying bitterly for a curse upon
the Good Luck, since she had learned
hex destination.

John Levin at dark took advantage
of: a south-east breeze, and sailed to
SaiHem without calling upon Mary,
w£io had baptized the Good Luck
before she knew her predestined
voyages. As Levin entered his
rn&ther's house upon Salem Water-
way , he looked back down the street
and saw the moon, a little past its
full, filling the arched space made
by the trees over the roadway. And
there, against the background of the
moon's light, he saw at some distance
a woman in white frantically gesticu-
lat ing ; and he heard her say, — ' ' The
G. od Luck is Bad Luck." And the
air was filled with profane voices, —
firr,t a woman's voice, then a man's
vc-rice echoing her curses.

The thrifty ship owner had how-
ever become so used to being cursed
that it did not worry him. Nor was
he in a mood tonight to entertain
thc*se aspirations for a higher life to
wLich he had sometimes been

328 LEGEND OF JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE.

prompted by Mary Glasse ; these
occasional notions being indeed as
powerless to break him off from his
life-long habits, as the vain efforts of
an illuminated sunset cloud to dispel
the gathering night. Xor was he
conscious of desiring to change from
spot to spot in a business way ; hav-
ing had for years, in looking out for
himself, no more conscience than a
fox. What Mary Glasse called sin,
he looked upon as bui. the natural
use of his powers, as innocent as
breathing. He had been brought up
so.

But Mary Glasse, upon her lonely
rocks rising out of the moonlit sea,
spent the early hours of this night,
her father being absent, in alternately
flashing and subduing the volcanic
emotions which had so disturbed her
nights since she had known John
Levin. Wild impulses often seized
her, to do imprudent things, which
ran counter to all her attempts at har-
monious spiritual culture.

"What perplexes me most," she
said to herself, rising from the door-
rock where she had long been dream-
ing, with her eyes at sea, " is the ques-
tion whether John Levin is made yet.
He imagines himself fated to do so
and so, compelled by his constitu-
tion ; asking, — ' How can I help it if
I am made so ? ' I want to know
whether he proposes to have a hand
in his own making. If he does, I
can perhaps help him ; if not, woe is
me."

CHAPTER XXII.

The next day being Sunday,
Madam Levin and her son went to
Saugus; but it was too exciting, —
and they went into the woods be-
yond.

Lunching under a shower of flame
colored leaves, they first roasted their
clams, corn, and potatoes by coals
glowing among the rocks. And
under a light haze in the sky and
puffs of their woodland smoke they
ate their red and yellow apples. The
unfallen leaves were alive with lisdit
and motion, and there were deep rock
shadows and dark trunks of heavy
timber. Clumps of red barberry and
the golden plume of the fairy elm
gave color. And here and there was
a mossy wall or the side of a grey
ledge purpling with wild grapes.
Far toward the marshes a stray gull
could be seen ; and Madam Levin
discovered near at hand, in the edge
of a field, a hawk upon the top of a
spruce. The pines were breathing
audibly in the light south wind, and
occasionally the distant voice of the
ocean could be heard, and a congre-
gation of crows made an orchard dis-
cordant by their Sunday discussion.

In this delightfully diversified
woodland hall, John Levin all day
diverted his mother's diligent in-
quiries about Mary Glasse, by giving
her much information concerning the
world's different religions, which he
intimated was a topic better suited to
the day.

When, however, they were making
their way homeward, around the
heads of the marshes, pausing now
and then to shoot unwary birds, he
confided to his mother — what he
really ought not to speak of — the fact
that he was obliged to see Mary
Glasse frequently upon wholly secular
business pertaining to property which
was likely to come to her, — she being
in fact his client. And with down-
cast eyes John timidly suggested that
he had hoped to receive from his dear

LEGEND OF JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE.

3?9

mother a list comprising the names of
several marriageable young women,
which he could run over at leisure,
indeed whenever he should. find time
to think of matrimony. He said that
if he must marry, which seemed to
him of doubtful utility, he should
prefer some other name than that of
the widow ; although she was well
enough for some, — perhaps for Ross.

"You are distractingly precise,
Mother, in naming to me Angelica,
when the empyrean is crowded with
angels to choose from : I do not fancy
her. She is too fat."

When, however. Madam Levin
was closeted with the widow for an
hour in the evening, she told Angel-
ica that John would probably marry
within a month, unless they could
break him off from Mary ; and it was
agreed between them to use their in-
fluence to get Raymond Foote out of
jail, and to foster as best they might
the friendship between Man- and the
minister.

"Yes, Madam," answered Angel-
ica. " I fancy that they are in imag-
ination doting upon each other now;
just lying awake nights, and pining
for one more discussion on theology.
I suppose that we must gratify them.
And then John you know ' '

" Yes, I know, I know."

"But what w T ill my dear Mr. Ross
say ? My heart is distraught, I have
too many beaus."

Meantime the doctor had called
upon John Levin, and they talked in
the summer house ; rehearsing at the
dawn of the moon the points of the
lawyer's strange dream.

"It is odd that I should have
dreamed it, but I killed our old mess-
mate Raymond Foote this Sunday
morning between midnight and day-

break. I am like an untried horse,
liable to do unexpected things under
the careless rein of night.- 1

'Yes, John, I have long known
that the Hawkinses of blessed mem-
ory must have had, some of them at
least, giddy, thoughtless years. It is
in your blood to do evil, as much as
it is for a rattlesnake to carry venom
and to strike."

"Thank you. Doctor. You've
stated the case exacth*. Can you not
insert 3~our tweezers, and remove the
fangs from the snaky part of my na-
ture? "

" What 's the use, John ? Are not
all creeping, sinuous, poisonous
things a part of nature? But then
you inherited other traits besides
your unfortunate killing qualities,
which prove so annoying to Adipose
and other women folks. Tell me
now about your murder."

Kindling first a little fire in a broad
brasier to modify the October chill,
the Doctor's peculiar patient said :
" If I were, Bob, a whole dynasty of
kings out of the orient, I could not
feel more like a criminal than I do
now, for you know the dictum that
no man becomes suddenly good cr
evil : and if, deliberately, in the full
possession of my senses, I go about to
follow a course not commended by
my reason, I may, by once entering
on a course of unreason, come finally,
with the greatest deliberation, to
commit murder some day."

" Don't say you may ; for you say
you have."

"Exactly."

"Take a fresh start then, and do
not moralize, but tell me at once."

"Yon know, Bob, that I have no
temper, as you have. But since I
committed murder last ni^ht. I have

3$o

LEGEND OF JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE.

found it hard not to shoot water-fowl
to-day, even on Sunday, — going from
bad to worse, you see." Then look-
ing straight into the doctor's eyes, he
asked, " Will you not loathe me if I
tell you ? ' '

" No, but I will loathe you if you
do not tell me. Out with it, and no
waiting."

' ' How do you think I did it ? By
my contractile, serpentine power?"

"How do I know? Why don't
you tell me ? "

" It will rend your heartstrings,
and I shall be corrupt and noisome to
you henceforth."

"You are that now. You are as
slow as a toad in a tar barrel."

"Tell me then. Did I do it by
strangling, clutching his throat when
he was asleep dreaming of Man'? "

The doctor shuddered, for he could
see by the brasier light that his pa-
tient's face had changed, and that he
looked like a murderer ; and his voice
was changed.

"What, John, did you actually
kill him?"

"Yes, I did. That is, it seems to
me that I did. It was very real.
Dreams are not often so vivid."

Levin's voice had now fully
changed, as if now he was in earnest,
and his face certainly wore a different
look. It was consummate acting,
unless he was guilty.

"You know, mess-mate, that I
murdered outright my friendship lor
Foote long ago. Why may I not
rightfully kill him ? "

Doctor Langdon had never seen
John Levin in such a mood, — with
such eyes ; and had never heard such
tones ; and had never noticed such a
strange, nervous play of his patient's
muscles.

** Do you know, Doctor, that a
somnambulist murder may be a mur-
der outright, and not a mere dream?
I cannot shake off the impression that
I have really killed him." Levin's
mouth twitched convulsively, when
he replenished the fire. "You have
noticed, Bob, how abrupt the ledges
are upon the east of Glasse Head ? "

"Yes."

** Suppose I had stood above and
detadhed a heavy fragment of rock,
and crushed the parson picking up
his otirs below ? "

" Bud you do that? "

"Xo."

"How then?"

"I did it with a knife, as delib-
erate^- as I would cut a cold sausage ;
and you would see blood on my knife
now, ii you knew where to look for it.'^

The doctor was silent.

" I ought to tell you, however," re-
sumed Levin, "that I have been do-
ing this for almost twenty years. It
begani- when I was a pupil with old
Hobbes at Hardwick House. I am
not sure that I did not actually kill
one of the servants there. I have
committed all my murders with a
knife. Upon some night, at least
once in two or three months, for years,
I have been conscious of handling a
long crooked knife upon some person,
— usually someone unknown and
vague and ill-defined to my waking
memory ; and I have been conscious
of seeing great blotches of blood; and
of being pursued ; and of hiding my-
self, often in a bell tower ; and of try-
ing to appear as respectable as usual,
to ward off suspicion ; and of a sense
of guilt ; and of double dealing in
trying to appear innocent. It 's a
horrible sensation. It remains with
me a day or two after I dream it.

LEGEND OF JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE.

I can with difficulty shake it off: and
if I do not, then I have a repetition
of the murder the night following."
The only effective way for me to
break it up is to go off upon some-
thing like a debauch in company
that ordinarily I detest, from which
I return to my work, ashamed of my-
self, but free from the memory of
murder to such extent that I can
sleep without being constantly op-
pressed by this morbid sense of fiend-
ish crime and hypocritical conceal-
ment, — for I never yet dreamed that
I was caught, notwithstanding all my
years of nocturnal crime. It 's all so
little like a dream, that I often think
that I do perhaps go out at night
and kill some one and then fly, and
then hide my crime in feigned sanc-
tity."

"And yet, John," answeied the
doctor after a long breath, " you ap-
pear sane enough, and succeed in
driving hard bargains, and in sur-
passing all your neighbors by the
voyages you plan ; I half believe the
Devil is in it, else you are bewitched.
Did you ever think that Mary Glasse
has anything to do with it ? "

"I am sure I do not know. I
never thought of that. But it is a
fact that I have dreamed every little
while about Mary Glasse for more
than fifteen years. She was a little
child when I began to dream about
her. " It was always the same face,
the same figure ; changing from year
to year in my dreams as she grew
older. And when I first saw her at
the Misery, I recognized her face."

"That, John, is not more strange
than my seeing Martha in a magic
mirror. But as to the murders, I
advise you to take delicate shavings
from a bullock's horn, rolled in pel-

lets of fine suet ; first taking three,
then a night-cap upon retiring. That
will put a stop to your dreaming and
killing men when you are asleep.
Why did you not tell me before? I
could have cured you. I make a
specialty, you know, of dreams and
witchcraft cases."

"I did not tell you because it all
seemed to me so horrible ; and because
I sometimes feared that it was a fact,
not a dream. Indeed, if I felt sure
that I had a habit of somnambulistic
sleep, I should be certain that I had
actually committed several murders,
and that Foote was the last victim.
You know that I would not mind
putting him out of the way anyhow.' 1

"What do you mean, John? Are
you mad ? Or, are you bewitched,
as I have often thought? What have
you against Raymond ? "

" I have nothing against him. But
I 've been thinking what a pity it is
that he should rot in jail when the
colon}- needs him so much. W T e have
not a man among us his equal for
raising troops, or doing anything re-
quiring popular appeal. He can this
winter, if set free, get an army ready
to march on Canada next spring."

"I don't see what that has to do
with what we were talking about."

" Neither do I.' Still, if he should
go to Canada, he is one of those
self-devoted men most likely never
to come back, if there is any fight-
ing* '

" That 's so. That 's so. That 's
so. There 's no murder in that."

"Of course not. I learned that
out of the Bible. My Cambridge
course did me at least that amount
of good. That 's the way the man
after God's own heart did when he
wanted to marry the woman he loved.

332

LEGEND OE JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE,

That's all right. Raymond Koote
shall be set free ; and he shall go to
Canada next spring, — else my name
is not John Levin."

' ' Perhaps your name is not John
Levin. It may be the Devil. That
is, unless you are bewitched. I really
believe that Mary Glasse has a malign
influence over you ; and has had, ever
since she was born."

As the doctor took his hat to go, it
did not occur to him to look in the
face of John Levin, who also arose
and stood at full height, contorting
his pallid lips into a smile, as the
ghastly moonbeams fell upon them.

CHAPTER XXIII.

The. next day John Levin hunted
up Angelica and went to Boston ;
and, the day following, picked up
Ross of Mystic, and other loose
spokes centering- at the Hub, — so
having such debauch as might drive
out of his head his dream of murder.
After that all went on as usual.

The release of Foote, the revolu-
tions, turning out the royal governor,
the preparation for war, — all these
gave Levin enough to do, too much
to do to spend time in making a
beast of himself. So that he soon
forgot his follies, as he did his dream.
And when he came to himself again,
and when the press of business al-
lowed him a moment to reflect, as it
sometimes did on a Sunday, his heart,
half-penitent, cried out for Mary
Glasse, — as if she had been a child-
love to whom he might always return
from his passionate freaks unques-
tioned, and to whom he deliberately
went when his better nature asserted
itself.

"I never told you, Mary Glasse,
why my soul is athirst after you, in a

parched life. It is because you are
to me a message, the infinite spirit of
the universe addressing my spirit
through you. It is because you are
sincere, faithful, true to my best in-
terests, that I love you. I go to you,
as I would to a personal deity, for
spiritual reinforcement. I go to you
as to a conscience. Be to me as you
will, I come your penitent.

" I never saw any one before I saw
you who exerted the slightest influ-
ence over me, to make me even desire
to stand wholly aloof from base per-
sons, or to raise my head into the
light of a pure love, or to walk deter-
minedly in the direction of self-re-
newal. I come to you that I may
find help, that I may be separated
from my old surroundings, and that
I may forget myself in your blissful
company. To me it is an era in life
to have any one to whom I can go,
whom I recognize as a moral author-
ity, distinctly setting me apart as
relatively unworthy, and placing
before me an ideal life."

Mary would have been impatient
enough at hearing all this, had she
not known that the circumstances de-
manded it. John Levin had been
very careful lest Mary Glasse should
think his life irregular. He was sen-
sitive, taking pains about it. But
she, whom Levin always spoke of as
an "idiot," could' not hold her
tongue ; nor could Mary's aunt, Mis-
tress Race. Mary, therefore, an-
swered John Levin's love speech by
silence.

"Mary, Mary," said Mr. Levin,
after the silence had become too
painful to be borne, " I have come
to you as I would come into the
presence of the 4 Ought ' within me.
I have searched and shaken every

LEGEND OF JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE,

333

corner of my heart ; and if I am will-
ing to return to you at all, with all
my shame-faeedness, it is because
you are to me love infinite, as well as
conscience and law."

Mary was still silent. And when
the self-respecting woman spoke, it
was in slow and measured tones, in a
voice which indicated inexpressible
pain and affection.

"John Levin, I love 3*011, and I
love you knowing your life better
than I wish I did. But I can no
more cease to cling to you, and to
live for you, than the earth can shake
itself clear from the influence of the
sun. I cannot discover the secret,
which is known to God but not to
me, why I love you. I cannot tell
any more than I can tell what gravi-
tation is. You are mine, and I am
yours, out of eternity and to eternity.
And when I say this, John, I am
angry through and through, red hot ;
and toward you I would be a con-
suming fire if I did not love you as
much as I hate what you do. I refer
to almost everything that you do that
has moral relations. I hate with a
perfect hatred everything that is un-
womanly, unmanly. I do not see my
way clear now any more than I did a
few months ago to fix a day for mar-
riage. I do not know whether the
great gulf between us will ever be
filled. It can never be filled, as you
well know, by anything that is not
worthy of you.

"O John Levin, my heart will
break. Your love has aroused all
my nature. I am a different being
from what I was before I saw you.
I am grateful for my love, and for
3 r ours. But I am, by so much,
made the more miserable. I see you
hedged about bv habits and methods

and by a spirit alien to me, — as if
you were already old in all that is
morally distasteful to me so young,
so inexperienced. ' '

"Tush, Mary Glasse, you are as
old as goodness, as experienced as
wisdom ; and it is I who am as a lit-
tle child stumbling and blundering
along life's way, — a little child way-
ward, nay, wicked, if there be such a
thing as intrinsic evil, and needing
love. I detest myself. I am a worm
and no man. I abhor myself, and
eat dust and ashes, save as I am in
your company. I am not worthy to
ask you to marry. I hold you free
from plight. Your agreement to
marry was under false pretences on
my part. You could not then have
known how bad I am. Nor can I
ask you to love me. I only ask that
I may love you.

"'O Mary Glasse. You can
never know the terror with which I
contemplate my life when I am in
your company. I desire to be much
with you, that so I may know my-
self, — self-knowledge by a compari-
son with a worthy object of love.
You ought to be angry with me, to
refuse to see me. I ought never to
come into your presence. But I do
not understand, Mary, that you ever
loved me because I was worthy of
your love ; but that you loved me out
of the fullness of your benevolent
nature, goodness which seems to me
infinite, an unselfish love which is
inexplicable. If I did not believe
this in my heart of hearts, I should
take my own life, not life physical
but my moral life, by going straight
to marry some she-devil.

"O Man-, it is almost a prayer
on my part. I never pray. As I
have told you, I do not believe in

334

LEGEND OF JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE.

a personal God, but I believe in
you. You are the only person I
ever knew — with intellectual qual-
ities commanding my respect — who
seemed to me perfectly unselfish, and
infinite in love. It is a love passing
understanding. Why do you not
spurn me ? Why do you love me
still, in all my umvorthiness ?

" I fear, Mary, that all your love
will avail nothing ; for I am locked
in the vice of natural law. The sins
of my youth beset me before and
behind. I cannot- be what I would.
Your love is my only hope. If I can
ever rise from my base, vulgar, de-
graded life, it must be by the power
of a new love. Do not cast me off.
Cling to me, I pray you, in all my
vicious life ; cling to me as you
would to a deformed child, or to a
tottering old man. Not marry ? No,
you ought not to marry me. But I
pray that you will continue to love
me. Good night."

CHAPTER XXIV.

Next morning Elder Perkins met
Raymond Foote upon the Great hill
north of Black cove; the elder being
there early to look out for the
Goodspeed, now overdue, — and Ray-
mond to watch for the earliest open-
ing of the door at Glasse Head. The
elder had been out of humor the
night before, made surly by some
petty parish affair, and Raymond
had been in good humor by the
opening of his prison house. Both
expressed great pleasure at this day-
dawn meeting. The elder's tall and
gaunt figure was favored by the half
light in which Raymond caught a
glimpse of him.

"Good morning, brother Foote.
I 'm glad to see you stirring so early.

Don't, I pray, be frustrated at my
presence."

"No, deacon, I 've met great men
before, and maintained self-posses-
sion. But it's as dark as a jail here
this morning. Is it always lowery
on this lookout ? ' '

" I do not know. With much ado
I have mounted the hill : and I had
hoped for a clearer horizon, and sight
of the homeward bound."

The elder expanded his narrow
chest, and then, throwing back his
head and throwing forward his great
ox-sled feet, he strutted up and
down, — peering seaward, and swing-
ing his thin arms and great knuckles
to warm himself.

"You would die of consumption,
deacon, if you had not been blessed
with sufficient conceit to keep your
shoulders square."

The elder self-complacently stroked
his sharp chin and slight, straggling
beard, and answered Raymond in a
hollow guffaw ; then, as he caught
sight of the Goodspeed , —

"There she is, to the east'ard o'
Baker's island. It's better 'n sun-
rise to my eyesight."

And the elder unconsciously put
his hand over his ear, which he used
as a pen-rack at home, — "I wish I
could see her invoice this minute."
And, having first hung his hat on a
thorn bush, he essayed to pull his
absent spectacles down from his fore-
head. " I am so encased in custom
that I carry rny counting-room with
me wherever I go. How prudent,
how admirable it is." Then the
elder puckered his leathery lips into
a tightly-drawn smile. "If John
Levin would lie in bed all day, or be
content with lying in his law-office, I
could manage his shipping for him, I

LEGEND OF JOHN LEIYN AND MARY GLASSE.

335

warrant." And then he curled his
dry lips and exposed his teeth.
"But John's too grasping, for me
to take comfort in doing business
with him. I feel like a mouse in
partnership with a weasel. It 's re-
markable, very. You must have
found him so, when you went shares
with him. He has brain enough for
a city. What with fish and lumber
and bark and pelts and rum and
corn and molasses and dry goods
and niggers and Barbadoes and Ber-
mudas and Fayal and Bilbo and
France and Holland and the Caro-
linas and Virginia — John Levin 's
got business enough, I should say ;
besides all his privateering and pi-
racy and governing the colonial gov-
ernors and visiting England every
few months to regulate our religion
for us, — it's remarkable, very. I
presume you 've found it so. But I
admire him, he 's so comical-like, as
you might say. Besides, there's the
Mason claim trumped up even* few
minutes, as Lovel tells me. There 's
nothing like having a mind widened
by commerce, parson. In short, it 's
remarkable, very. Then, they do

say, he has a spree, now and then.
And I believe he 's going to marry
Skipper Glasse's daughter, besides.
And there 's nothing remarkable
about her, except she looks and
acts just like John Levin, as much
as if he 'd had her bringing up, —
except she 's very pious, you know ;
and he's, well, you know, he's as
much like the devil, as you might
say, as anybody you ever saw. I
presume you 've found him so, take
him all together."

" But, elder, you must love to hear
yourself talk to run on that way
about your partner. I believe Mr.
L/evin has a share in the Goodspced. ' '

"To be sure, to be sure. How
could I get on without him ? And I
own a share in the Hawk besides.
Indeed, I could not get on without
Man, but he is very like — well, you
know who he is most like, don't
you ? ' '

"Oh, yes, I know, I know,"
responded Raymond, laughing.
'"Good bye, deacon. Good bye."

The Glasse Head door was swing-
ing, and Raymond went thither.

\To be continued.}

FAIR ORMOND.
By Edward A. yenks.

Fair Ormond of the sunbriglit shore —

How sweet our memories be !
The restful river at her door ;

Behind, the white-fringed sea.

The wild waves chant her sweetest charms-
She turns her face away !

The soft breeze clasps her in his arms,
And kisses her all day

A Queen, no jewelled robe she lacks :

She reigns right royally,
One fair hand on the Halifax,

The other on the sea

The live-oaks swing the woodland sprites

In loops of ashen gray.
When lovers crowd the moonlight nights,

And fairy-land is gay.

Through massive golden sunset bars

The day departs in state,
While, one by one, the wizard stars

March through the twilight gate, —

To gaze on bloody fields of old —

Of Spanish derring-do —
Where Ponce de Leon fought ior gold,

And Indian arrows flew.

And if we listen when the doors

Of night are all ajar.
The rhythmic dip of shadowy oars

Will greet us from afar.

Where scintillant Tomoka glides —

With heaven above — below —
Red warriors wooed their wild-rose brides :

And still his waters flow

As gently, mutely to the sea

As ever waters ran, —
The loveliest dream in Florida —

An Arcady for Pan.

Fair Ormond ! you are wondrous sweet —
Your flowers, your birds, your trees ; —

We kiss again your dainty feet ;
We feel your cooling breeze.

THE SOCIETY OF COLONIAL WARS

TO people interested in the early
period of our country's history,
the colonial, — which extends
from the time of the landing of the
first Virginia colony, May 13, 1607,
to the Battle of Lexington, April
x 9- 1 775' which began the American
Revolution, — the Society of Colonial
Wars offers much of value and op-
portunity.

The General Society of Colonial
Wars was organized on May 9 and
10, 1893, in the governor's room,
city hall, New York city, by dele-
gates from five states and the District
of Columbia. At an adjourned meet-
ing of the general assembly, held at
the Hotel Xew Netherlands, Decem-
ber 19, 1S93, a constitution was
unanimously adopted. The pream-
ble, which presents the objects of
this noble society, is as follows:

"Whereas, It is desirable that
there should be adequate celebrations,
commemorative of the events of colo-
nial history, happening from the set-
tlement of Jamestown, Virginia, May
13, 1607, to the Battle of Lexington,
April 19, 1775.

''Therefore, The Society of Colo-
nial Wars has been instituted to per-
petuate the memory of those events,
and of the men who in military,
naval, and civil positions of high
trust and responsibility, by their acts,
or counsel, assisted in the establish-
ment, defense, and preservation of the
American colonies, and were in truth

IX NEW HAMPSHIRE.
jo/in C. Thome, Secretary.

the founders of this nation. With this
end in view it seeks to collect and
preserve manuscripts, rolls, relics, and
records ; to provide suitable commem-
oration, or memorials, relating to the
American colonial period, and inspire
in its members the fraternal and
patriotic spirit of their forefathers,
and in the community, respect and
reverence for those whose public ser-
vices made our freedom and unity
possible."

The growth of this society has been
remarkably rapid. The organization
now has state societies in California,
Colorado, Connecticut, Massachu-
setts, Missouri, New Hampshire, New
Jersey, New York, Illinois, Ken-
tucky, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Vermont,
and Virginia.

The New York state society ante-
dates the national, having been insti-
tuted August 18, 1892, and now has
a membership of 680 and is limited to
700. The New Hampshire society
was organized September 27, 1894, at
Concord, incorporated under the laws
of the state September 28, 1894, and
chartered by the general council the
twelfth of the following November.
The first general court was held De-
cember 11, 1S94, in the library of the
New Hampshire Historical Society.
The second general court was held
September 12, 1S95 (adjourned from
June 17), in the state senate chamber
at Concord. The annual general
court is June 17, the anniversary day

33*

THE SOCIETY OF COLONIAL WARS

Louisburg

of the surrender of
Lieutenant-General Pepperell.

And, by the way, the plans for this
Louisburg campaign originated in
New Hampshire with Major William
A'aughan of Portsmouth, who inter-

achievement, in the capture of this
supposed impregnable fortress, a sec-
ond Gibraltar, dedicated at Louis-
burg, Cape Breton. June 17, 1S95,
(the one hundred and fiftieth anni-
versary of its surrender) a monu-

•

i .

_.__j

The Louisburg Medal.

ested Governor Wentworth in carry-
ing out the enterprise. New Hamp-
shire furnished for the expedition a
regiment of five hundred men under
command of Col. Samuel Moore, and
a sloop-of-war commanded by Capt.
John Fernald. These forces, both
land and naval, performed the most
distinguished services. It was a de-
tachment under the brave Major
Vaughan that destroyed the ware-
houses of the enemy, and captured
the royal battery, the first daring and
successful operation of the siege.

The news of the capture of Louis-
burg was received in New Hamp-
shire, as well as throughout all the
colonies, with the ringing of bells and
firing of cannon, and Governor Went-
worth ordered a ''public entertain-
ment in the town of Portsmouth and
at his Majesty's Fort William and
Mary," in honor of the event.

The Society of Colonial Wars to
commemorate this great military

ment in remembrance of the victor)',
on land ceded for the purpose by
Great Britain. Also, in further
honor of the capture of this strong-
hold, a ""Louisburg Medal" has been
cast by Tiffany & Co., of New York
city, bearing medallion likenesses of
Sir William Pepperell and Commo-
dore Warren ; with a representation
of the city and harbor of Louisburg,
with its fortifications, on the obverse;
a rare and beautiful piece of work,
to which greater value is added by
the fact, that it is made of bronze
from a French cannon that lay at the
bottom of the harbor for 150 years.

Sir Edwin Arnold has said : ' ' The
Americans are an uninteresting peo-
ple because they have no history."
This is partially true, and it is one
of the objects of this society to aid in
bringing to light buried colonial rec-
ords and to show to the world that
we have a noble history extending
over two and a half centuries.

THE SOCIETY OF COLONIAL WARS.

»39'

American history is too frequently
accepted as if it had begun with the
War of the Revolution, and without
due and proper regard for the mate-
rial events of the antecedent colonial
period. This period has increased his-
torical significance, when it is consid-
ered that it was in the preceding co-
lonial wars that the colonists acquired
the valuable experience in warfare
which paved the way to victory in
the struggle for independence, and in
fact made it a possibility.

New Hampshire took a prominent
part in all these wars, from King-
Philip's War, 1 675-' 76, to the French
and Indian War, 1-^4-6^, and espe-
cially in the siege of Louisburg in
1745. Many of New Hampshire's
distinguished officers of the Revolu-
tionary Army, as the dauntless Gen-
eral Stark, learned the art of war in
the colonial service, and their bril-
liant achievements in that war bear
abundant evidence of the value of
their previous training.

Therefore, the Society of Colonial
Wars has been instituted to perpetu-
ate, by suitable celebrations and
memorials, the remembrance of those
events, and of the men who were
active in establishing, defending, and
preserving the American colonies,
and to encourage individual research
in Colonial history, especially in
New Hampshire.

The officers of the New Hampshire
society are : Governor, Hon. Henry
Oakes Kent, Lancaster, X. H. ; depu-
uty-governor, William Lithgow Wil-
ley, S. D., Boston, Mass.; lieutenant-
governor, Charles Frederick Bacon
Philbrook, Boston, Mass.: secretary,
John Calvin Thorne, 94 North Main
street, Concord, X. H.; treasurer,
Granville Priest Conn, M. D., Con-

cord, X. H.; registrar, Hon. Ezra
Scollay Stearns, M. A., Rindge, X.
H.; chaplain, Rev. Charles Langdon
Tappan, M. A., Concord, X. PL:
chancellor. Col. Adolphus Skinner
Hubbard, U. S. V., San Francisco,
Cal.

This society holds its next general
court at the state senate chamber,
Concord, June 17 (the anniversary
of the surrender of Louisburg as well
as of the Battle of Bunker Hill), at
11 o'clock a. m. The Xew Hamp-
shire Society of Colonial Dames has
been invited to join in the literary
exercises appropriate to the observ-
ance of the day, as well as to be
the guests of the Society of Colonial
Wars at the banquet which follows
at the Xew P,agle hotel.

\i',:,t

The Monument at Louisburg.

^s>

9 /,:

LftfS* 1

Conducted by Fred Cawing, Stute Superintendent of Public Instruction.

THE SCHOOL FLAG.
By John B. Peaslee.

We should endeavor to inspire the youth of our country with patriotism — with
a fervent and abiding love of the free institutions of America and of the flag of the
grandest nation that ''ever rose to animate the hopes of civilized man."

From every school-house in our land
Let the hallowed flag of Union wave
And float aloft on every breeze
Above the heads of children brave.
Until around that dear old flag,.
From Eastern strand to Western shore,
From Northern bound to Southern gulf,
The hearts of children evermore

Inspire Columbia's joyous youth;
With fervent love of country grand,
That when they reach proud life's estate
They'll nobly by our nation stand
And guard her safe from ev'ry foe
Of Equal Rights and Freedom's cause
And keep for aye inviolate
Her constitution and her laws.

Yes, hoist the starry banner up.
Emblem of our country's glory.
And teach the children of our land
Its grand and wondrous story —
Of how in early times it waved
High o'er the continentals brave,
Who fought and made this country free,
The one true home of Liberty.

Note. — The prose introduction, the last line of which is taken from the writings of Henry Clay,
together with the poem, is intended for a school declamation. — J. B. P.

EDUCATIONAL DEPARTMENT,

34*

DECORATION ODE.

TUNE PORTUGUESE HYMN.

By John B. Peaslee.
[Suggested by a visit to the National cemetery near Chattanooga, Tenn.]

The heroes who rest in their silent home here
Shall e'er be enshrined in our memories dear.
They volunteered all for their country's true cause
And fell on the field while defending her laws.

Their names are enrolled in the lists of the brave

Who fought for the Union, our nation to save.

The wrongs that they vanquished, the rights they maintained,

Shall aye through the ages be proudly proclaimed.

Their valor shall be to the youth of our land
Incentive for freedom and Union to stand.
In mem'ry of them, as the years roll around.
We'll garland with dowers each hallowed mound.

Thus honoring them we anew consecrate
Our lives and our fortunes to Union and state.
And show ourselves worthy to ever be free.
The sons and the daughters of sweet Libertv.

REGULATIONS GOVERNING THE EXAMINATION AND CERTIFICA-
TION OF SCHOOL TEACHERS.

By the Superintendent of I'ub/ic Instruction.

THE LAW.

AN ACT to provide for the examina-
nation and certification of school
teachers by the superintendent of
public instruction.

Be it enacted by the Senate and House of
Representatives in Genera/ Court Con-
re net! :

manner as the superintendent of public
instruction may from time to time des-
ignate. Due notice of the time, place,
and other conditions of the examina-
tions shall be given in such public
manner as the superintendent of public
instruction may determine.

Sec. 2. A certificate of qualification
shall be given to all candidates who
Section i. The superintendent of pass satisfactory examinations in such
public instruction shall cause to be branches as are required by law to be
held at snch convenient times and taught, and who in other respects ful-
places as he may from time to time fil the requirements of the superinten-
designate, public examinations of can- dent; such certificate shall be either
didates for the position of teacher in probationary or permanent, and shall
the public schools of the state. Such indicate the grade of school for which
examinations shall test the profes- the person named in the certificate is
sional as well as the scholastic abili- qualified to teach.

ties of candidates, and shall be con- Sec. 3. A list of approved candidates

ducted by such persons and in such shall be kept in the office of the depart-

542

BDUCA TIONAL DEPAR TMENT.

merit of public instruction, and copies
of the same, with such information as
may be desired, shall be sent to school
committees upon their request.

Sec. 4. The certificates issued under
the provisions of this act may be ac-
cepted by school committees in lieu of
the personal examination required by
section 6 of chapter 92 of the Public
Statutes.

Sec. 5. A sum not exceeding three
hundred dollars may be annually ex-
pended from the income of institute
fund for the necessary and contingent
expenses of carrying out the provisions
of this act.

Sec. 6. This act shall take effect
upon its passage.

[Approved March 19, 1S95.]

TIME AND PLACES.

The first examination under this law
will be held Tuesday, June 30, and
Wednesday, July 1, 1896, beginning at
nine o'clock in the forenoon at

Berlin High School.

Claremont High School.

Concord High School.

Dover High School.

Keene High School.

Laconia High School.

Lisbon High School.

Manchester High School.

Nashua High School.

North Conway, Masonic Hall.

Plymouth Normal School.

EXAMINERS AND ASSIGNMENTS.

The examiners appointed for 1896
and their assignments are as follows :
H. W. Whittemore, P>erlin.
M. C. Smart, Claremont.
L. J. Rundlett, Concord.
Channing Folsom, Dover.
T. W. Harris, Keene.
W. N. Cragin, Laconia.
C. L. Wallace, Lisbon.

W. E. Buck, Manchester.
J. H. Fassett, Nashua.
J. C. Simpson, North Conway.
C. C. Rounds, Plymouth.

SCHOLASTIC SUBJECTS.

Candidates for certificates shall pass
satisfactory examinations in the follow-
ing scholastic subjects :

Algebra to quadratics.

American History.

Arithmetic, oral and written, includ-
ing simple accounts, the metric system,
and mensuration.

Civics, the equivalent of Dole's
American Citizen.

Current Topics.

Drawing, including Geometric Con-
struction.

English Grammar and Composition.

Geography.

Music.

Penmanship.

Physiology and Hygiene, including
the effects of Stimulants and Narcotics.

Reading, including American Litera-
ture.

Spelling.

Any one of the three Sciences, at the
option of the person examined, Botany,
Zoology, Physics.

PROFESSIONAL SUBJECTS.

Candidates for certificates shall pass
satisfactory examinations in the follow-
ing professional subjects:

Methods, in connection with each
scholastic subject.

History of Education, the equiva-
lent of Painter's History of Education,
published by D. Appleton &: Co.

School Management, the equiva-
lent of White's School Management,
published by the American Book Co.,
or Tompkins's School Management,
published by Ginn & Co.

EDUCA TIONAL DEPARTMENT.

34;

Pedagogy, the equivalent of White's
Elements of Pedagogy, published by
the American Book Co., Page's Theory
and Practice, published by the Werner
Co., Fitch's Lectures on Teaching, pub-
lished by Wiilard Small, Boston.

Psychology, the equivalent of Sul-
ly's Teachers' Handbook of Psychology,
published by D. Appleton & Co.. or
James's Psychology, briefer course, pub-
lished by Henry Holt & Co.

School Laws of New Hampshire,
especially those relating to raising
school funds, powers and duties of
school boards, attendance of scholars
and truancy.

[Books mentioned or syllabi given
indicate the minimum requirement.]

CERTIFICATES.

To secure permanent certificates can-
didates must secure in the examination
an average of not less than eighty (80)
per cent, in all the required subjects,
scholastic and professional, and must
not fall below seventy (70) per cent, in
any subject.

Probationary Certificates, valid
for one year from the date thereof, will
be granted to such candidates as attain
an average standing of not less than
seventy (70) per cent, in all the required
subjects, scholastic and professional,
and do not fall below sixty (60) per cent.
in any subject, but candidates for such
certificates may omit the examination in
Botany, Physics, Zoology, Algebra,
Geometry, Music, History of Education,
and Psychology.

Minimum Age. No certificate will
be issued to any person under eighteen
years of age.

preliminary papers.

Each candidate will, on a blank fur-
nished for the purpose, make such state-

ments regarding name, residence, edu-
cation, experience in teaching, and other
matters as may be required.

Candidates, if thev wish, may, pre-
viously to the day of examination, pro-
cure the proper blanks from the Super-
intendent of Public Instruction and fill
them out.

Each candidate will also have in
readiness for the examine a letter from
some reputable person containing a
statement as to the character of the
candidate, and the addresses of two
reputable persons who know the can-
didate, these persons to be readily
accessible to the Superintendent of
Public Instruction.

HONORS.

An average mark of ninety (90) per
cent, or higher, with no mark in any
subject below eighty (80) per cent., will
entitle the candidate to the words "with
credit" in the certificate.

An average mark of ninety-five (95)
per cent, or higher, with no mark in any
subject below ninety (90) per cent., will
entitle the candidate to the words "with
honor " in the certificate.

NORMAL SCHOOL.

The Superintendent of Public In-
struction, upon the written recommenda-
tion of the principal of the State Nor-
ma' School, and after the blank state-
nus "s are properly filled and returned,
vvtU grant permanent certificates to
gra laates of the State Normal School.

MISCELLANEOUS ITEMS.

Tie Superintendent of Public In-
struction may, for reasons satisfactory
to himself and in the interests of the
stale, refuse to grant a certificate to
an}' candidate deemed unworthy.

Candidates whose standing in the

344

ED L/C 1 TIONAL DEPA R TMENT.

examination will not warrant the grant-
ing of a permanent certificate, will be
granted a probationary certificate, if the
standing of such candidate is sufficiently
high.

Stationery. Blanks and necessary
paper will be furnished by the examiner.

Uniformity. The examinations will
be uniform and simultaneous through-
out the state.

Notice. Candidates are requested,
but not required, to give notice to the
Superintendent of Public Instruction of
intention to take the examinations and
the probable places of taking them.

Choice of Place. Candidates are
expected to take the examinations at
places nearest their residences.

Information. Information regard-
ing the examinations will be cheerfully
given by the Superintendent of Public
Instruction or any of the examiners.

GENERAL DIRECTIONS.

i. The printed questions will be sent
to the examiners in sealed envelopes,
and these will be first opened in the
presence of the candidates at the time
indicated on the programme for the
examination in each subject.

2. Marks will be en a scale of one
hundred (ioo), and the number of
credits to be allowed to each question
will be indicated on the examination
paper.

3. Candidates will be careful to write
upon one side of the paper only, not to
fold sheets, to number sheets for each
subject consecutively, to write name of
subject and name of candidate at the
top of each separate sheet. The ques-
tions are to be returned to the examiner
with the answers. Answers are to be
numbered to correspond with the ques-
tions. There must be a margin at the
left of each paper.

4. Examiners will take into account
the general appearance, neatness, legi-
bility, and clearness of papers.

5. Penmanship will be judged by a
paper to be selected by the examiner.

6. Spelling, will be judged by the
paper on a subject to be selected by the
examiner.

7. In the solution of problems, pro-
cesses should be indicated. The sim-
ple answ-er will not suffice.

8. All statements and answers must
be written in ink.

9. Collusion between candidates or
dishonesty will wholly vitiate the exam-
ination.

10. For information at the examina-
tion, candidates must apply to the ex-
aminer only. No books, papers, or
notes can be used at the examinations
except such as are required by the ex-
aminer. Candidates must furnish their
own rulers, compasses, pens, and pen-
cils.

11. The examination in each subject
is restricted to the half-day designated
in the programme.

12. Examiners are not allowed to
modify materially or change any exam-
inations.

13.. Examiners will collect papers at
the close of each half day.

14. Questions must not be copied.

15. Results of examinations will be
forwarded to candidates as soon as
practicable.

16. Candidates must make them-
selves thoroughly familiar with the re-
quirements and regulations of the ex-
aminations, r

These regulations apply to examina-
tions to be held in 1S96.

Candidates will be advised of any
necessary changes or emendations.
Modifications may be made for follow-

S. B. CHASE.

Samuel B. Chase was born in Hopkinton. N. H., October 1, 1S23, and died in
Chicago, 111., March 27, 1896. He entered Dartmouth college at the age of 14,
graduated in the class of '44, and studied law in the office of Lewis Smith of
Fisherville, X. H. After he was admitted to the bar, he entered into a partner-
ship with Mr. Smith, which continued until 1S50, when he went to Chicago, 111.,
where he had since lived. It was Mr. Chase's intention to practise law in the
then young city. While building up his practice, he entered the office of James
H. Rees. one of the largest real estate dealers. There was in preparation at the
time the first set of Indices to Cook County Records. He entered upon this
real estate abstract work and as an authority on titles was soon widely known.
He adopted for his life work the real estate features of an attorney's business.
After Mr. Rees retired, the abstract business was conducted by the three Chase
brothers, and so continued until the Title Guarantee and Trust Co. was formed.
Chase brothers held all the books containing the titles of Chicago property during
the great fire, and it was due to their untiring efforts that the books were pre-
served. Mr. Chase was for many years supervisor of the town of Lakeview,
before its annexation to Chicago, and for four years a member of the Illinois state

board of equalization.

A. W. STEARNS.

Artemus W. Steams was born at Hill, March 11, 1816, and died at Lawrence,
Mass., April 20. He went to that city in 1S45, anc * became one of its wealthiest
merchants. He had held offices in the city government and in banking and mer-
cantile organizations.

SULLIVAN HOLMAN.

Rev. Sullivan Holman was born at Hopkinton, June 13, 1820, and died April

15. He received a Methodist preacher's license at Boston in 1838, joined the

New Hampshire conference in 1843, and was chaplain at the state prison for a

number of years.

OLIVER GOSS.

Dr. Oliver Goss died April 12 at Lakeport, where he had practised medicine
since 1852. He studied at the Harvard and Dartmouth Medical schools, gradu-
ating from the litter in 1845. ^ e ^ rst located at Melvin village.

H. K. DANIELS.
H. R. Daniels, a member of the Boston stock exchange, died at Dorchester,
April 6. He was born in Brookline, June 21, 1834, and during the war was presi-
dent of the gold exchange at Boston.

346 NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY.

M. W. RUSSELL
Dr. Moses W. Russell, a native of Sutton, born November 4, 1S36, died at Con-
cord, April 17. He graduated at Dartmouth Medical college in 1S63, took post-
graduate studies at New York, and practised at Sutton and Concord. He was
president of the New Hampshire Medical society in 1S92.

E. O, BLUNT.
Hon. Edward O. Blunt was born in Nashua in 1S47. an d died there April 14.
He was a leading grocer, prominent in Masonry, and served as alderman, police
commissioner, representative, and councilor under Gov. J. B. Smith.

JOHN FU LLOXTON.
John Fullonton, professor of ecclesiastical history and theology at Bates college.
died at Lewiston, Me., April 17. He was born at Raymond in 18 14, graduated
from Dartmouth in 1840, and received the degree of D. D. from that institution in

1S62.

LUTHER McCUTCKINS.

General Luther McCutchins was born in Pembroke, February 25, 1S07, and
died at New London, March 27. He followed the occupation of a farmer. In
1856 he was appointed adjutant-general by Governor Haile. and during the war
he served as draft commissioner for Merrimack county, in 1874 he was the un-
successful candidate of the Republican party for governor.

JOSEPH OILMAN,

Joseph Gilman died at Tarn worth, April 1, at the age of 89 years. He was town
clerk for thirty-two years, postmaster, and representative to the legislature. He
was famous as a landlord, and was exceedingly well-versed in local history.

CYRUS EASTMAN.
Cyrus Eastman, a native of Danville. Vt., but for forty years the leading mer-
chant of Littleton, died March 31. He was largely interested in banking and
hotel property. He served as colonel in the old militia, as representative in the
legislature, member of the constitutional convention of 1S76, and in Governor

Goodwin's council.

JOHN PIERCE.

Captain John Pierce was born in Gardner, Mass., June 21, 1799. and died at
Littleton, April 4. He came to Beth'iehem when 20, and served the town as
selectman, representative, and member of the constitutional convention.

C. L. DAMRELL.

Charles Lowe Damrell was born in Portsmouth, November 16, 1826, and died

at Boston, March 29. He came to Boston in 1S49, an ^ na d since been engaged

in the book business there, having occupied for a quarter of a century the famous

"Old Corner Bookstore."

G. D. WOODS.

George D. Woods was born in Henniker, April 18, 182 1, and died at Hillsbor-
ough, March 26. He amassed a fortune in business at Boston, but had resided
for a number of years at Hillsborough Brk ge, where he was a director in the local
bank.

The' World's Fair"
Best Flour

Excels All Others in
Purity in Milling and
Excellent Flavor of the Bread.

L. C. PORTER MILLING CO.,

WINONA, MINN.

The Old Reliable "BOSS"

OOOO PATENT

Guaranteed to

Equal the Best Flour

From Any Other Source

CS^Both brands for sale by the leading grocers.

A. S. RANNEY, Concord, N. H., Gen'i Ajeni for Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, and Northern Massachusetts.

L-

-J

Broujii & Burpgg,

CONSULTING OPTICIANS,
THE KBNNARD, . . . MANCHESTER,
.-30 NO. MAIN ST., CONCORD,

Have given a life's study to Ophthalmic optics, and their
parlors and testing rooms were never so well equipped
for the treatment of complicated defects as at the pres-
ent time. Highest standard in skill and material. Low-
est prices consistent with correct work. You can save
time, patience, and money by sending your oculist's pre-
scriptions and broken 'spectacles to The Kemiard.
Everything in the optical line. Artificial eyes a specialty
in price and quality. Their Concord rooms" are in charge
of W. I,. Ficket. a graduate optician, and the senior
member, Mr. Brown, is there every Wednesday and
Thursdav.

CHARLES II. JAMESON,

Inprcm c e

AND

Comim55ion
Merloni....

Contoocook Valley Farms.

SELISrXD FOR CATALOaUE.

BOTANY...

Village Residences, Stores, Business
Chances, etc.

Money Invested on First-Class Real
Estate Mortgages.

HILLSBOROUGH BRIDGE, N. II.

Books
of . . .
SPECIAL
Value.

ELEMENTS OF BOTANY. By Joseph V. Bergera, Instructor in Biology in the English

High School, Boston. i2nio. Cloth. 332 pages. Fully illustrated. For introduction,

$1.16.
ELEMENTS OF PLANT .AfS'ATOflY. By Emily M. Gregory, Professor of Botany in Barnard

College. 8vo. Cloth. 148 pages- Illustrated. For introduction, $1.25.
OUTLINES OF LESSONS IN BOTANY. For the use of teachers, or mothers studying with

their children. By Jane H. Newell. Part I.: From Seed to Leaf. Square i2mo. Cloth.

150 pages. Illustrated For introduction. 50c. Part II.: Flower and Fruit. 393 pages.

Illustrated. Cloth. For introduction. Soc.
A READER IN BOTANY. Selected and adapted from well known

Newell. Part I.: From Seed to Leaf. 121110. Cloth. 199 pages.

Part II.: Flower and Fruit. i2mo. Cloth. 179 pages For introduction, 60c.
LITTLE FL0WER=PE0PLE. By Gertrude E. Hale. Square 121110. Illustrated. Cloth. 85

pages. For introduction, 40c
GLIMPSES OF THE PLANT WORLD. By Fanny D. Bergen. Fully illustrated. i2mo.

uthors. By Jane H.
For introduction, 60c.

Cloth.

j6 pa<

For introduction, 50c.

ELEHENTS OF STRUCTURAL AND SYSTEMATIC BOTANY. For High Schools and Ele-
mentary College courses. By Douglas Campbell, Professor of Botany in the Leland Stan-
ford Junior University. i2tno. Cloth. 253 pages. For introduction, $ 1. 12.

DESCRIPTIVE; CIRCULARS SENT FREE ON APPLICATION.

BOSTON.

NEW YORK,

CHICAGO.

ATLANTA

JV J 1 \ 1111% l^r\

^ 111 p^l ^ cOi' - I Xi) W^

CorCUD • N It

TrtE- 0K*nt /*WW OPttMW

1896

Bound Volumes

A limited number of bound volumes of Vol-
ume XVIII and XIX of The Granite
Monthly can be obtained of the publishers
for

$1.25 PER COPY.

If numbers are returned in good condi-
tion, we will bind them for 50c. per volume.

THE GRMITE MONTHLY CO.,

Concord, X. II.

THE WAR OF THE REBELLION

1^ SO^O ^^TX) STORY.

J'KEPAKEO BY

E. W. PEARSON,

IHrvctorof Mu<:<-. Public Schools, Nashua. X. li.. and Supervisor of

Music. State Normal School, Plymouth, N. H.

A Patriotic, Historical, Memorial Exercise for
Public Schools.

PRICES.

1 copv . . . ;? .25 ) .50 copies . . . $3.00
10 copies . . . TOO 1 10O "... 5.00
25 ... 2.00 ! 840 per thousand.

INFORMATION".

An}' further information regarding the exer-
cise, or its proper production, will be gladly
given bv the publisher.--.

REPUBLICAN PRESS ASSOCIATION,
Pub ,: hers. Concord, N. H.

Life Insurance at Low Cost.

KEMIIM Kim.

Age

30 .

•i

50 .

$10.70
11.60
12.80
16.55
27.30
52.25

The above rates will be reduced by annu-
al dividends, and are for term policies,
which can be converted into any other form
of policy without reexamination.

■

Nicholas Frost, Gen. Agt.,

UNDER THE CLOCK,

CONCORD, N. ti

Read Your Paper

AND TRACE

DR. NANSEiYS EXPEDITION

THE_ NORTH JPOLE.

ON THE fsJEW MAR OF rHE
NORTH POLAR REGIONS

In Our Ediion of

•; ~rfcb ' ^ r^^ .^, '^. ' ^ : 2 .

;: r ux : r - — n

l \m

■*Y

iLPl^ W ^ m\\

; [0 General Atlas gf

: /; n Narginat Index.
■r£i| 1898

m
II

(Size of Page 12 x 14 1-2 inches.— 160 Pages.)

■57 Pages of Colored Maps, showing Every

Country on the Face of the Globe.

Index on flargin of Each Page.

READ This Fine Print. It Will
Interest You.

The dimensions of each page are 12x14 I2 inches.
The maps delineate with incomparable accuracy the
physical conformation of every State and Territory in
the United States, the Dominion of Canada, and of every
country in both hemispheres, whether of imperial im-
portance or the smallest republic iu Christendom.
The maps themselves reproduce with rare fidelity of
detail the features of every habitable and uninhabited
tract known to the explorer. They also show the areas
and population of every importaut city iu each State
and Territory of the United States, and the political
subdivisions of the continents of both hemispheres,
every place of prominence being indicated by a Ready-
Reference Marginal Index, so systematized and classi-
fied that the place sought may be located instantly.
Every name is printed from a faultless font of type.
and stands out clear-cut as a cameo. Hence it is typo-
graphically perfect, and unequaled as a vehicle for
imparting universal knowledge. Its colored pages
bristle with the crispest geographical facts rendered
necessary by the ceaseless changes in the geographi-
cal Hues of nations consequent upon the constant up-
setting of the world's landmarks by war, exploitation.
and arbitrament.

Superbly hound in Fine English SMk Cloth,
With Colored Edges, sent PREPAID to any <£ 1 QT
Express office in the United States upon re* t]j 1 • / 3
ceipt of

Orders Received Now for the Complete
Work. Address,

ATLAS DEPARTMENT, MONITOR BLDG.,

CONCORD, M. ti.

JO{>OOOOOOOC CK"

JU/NE, IB96.

OTNnt/tylTftLY

CPrsTErlTd

zzz

i
1

The Town of Conway, Mrs. Ellen McRoberts Mason .

Among the Hills, George Bancroft Griffith

The Land of Evangeline, Helen E. Phillips

Annis Gage Marshall. Col. Wra. H. Stinson

I Glide Adown the Flashing Stream. A Charade. Edward A.

A Typical Xe\y England Farmer, H. H. Metcalf

One Morning, Virginia B. Ladd ....

Revenge is Sweet, Edwin Osgood Grover .

Aspiration, Fletcher Harper Swift

The Legend of John Levin and Mary Glasse, E. P.

Educational Department, Fred Gowing

New Hampshire Necrology ....

Tennev

Jenks

347
375
376
37S
379
381

3*3
384
3S3
388
394
397

The July Granite Monthly will contain, among other features, '• Historic
pi Hampton," by L. K. H. Lane, and the first part of a novelette,

jf 1 "The Benefaction of Melancthon Downs,"'

by Francis FJana.

Subscription: £2.00 per year; 51.50 if paid in advance; 2o»cents per copy.
Entered at the post-office at Concord, N. H-, as second class matter.
Copyright, 1896, by the Granite Monthly Company. All rights reserved.
Illustrated, printed, and electrotyped by the Republican Press Association, Concord, N. H.

FUNK & WAGN ALLS'

Standard
Dictiona

is everywhere acknowledged
by Educators. Scholars, the
Press, and the Public io be

THE BEST FOR ALL PURPOSES.

It is the Latest and Most Complete.

Contains 301,865 words, many thousand more
than any other dictionary ever published.
More than $900,000 v ere expended in its pro-
duction. 247 Specialists and Editors were en-
gaged in its prepai ation.

It5 Definitions are Clear and Fxact.

President Milne, of New York State Normal
College, says its definitions are best to be
found anywhere. Scores of critics say the
same.

Its Etymolog i cs a r e Sound .

They are especially commended by the Atlan-
tic Monthly, Boston, the Westminster Gazette.
London. Sunday School Times, Philadelphia,
and scores of others.

It is a Government Authority.

It is Adopted in the Public Schools

of New York City and elsewhere. Its new ed-
ucational features are extremely valuable in
training pupils to a correct u-e of words, cap-
itals, hyphens, etc. Its illustrations are su-
perb. Its tables of coins, weights, and meas-
ures, plants, animals, etc.. are exhaustive and
cannot be found elsewhere.

— *5 *ft e M° st H 5 ghly C o m m e n d ed .

Never has a dictionary been welcomed with
such unanimous and unqualified praise by the
press, the great universities, and by educa-
torsand critics throughout the English-speak-
ing world. Americans are proud of it. Eng-
lishmen admire it.

The London Times saps: "The merits of ihe
Standard Dictionary are indisputable and are
abundantly attested by a large number of unim-
peachable* authorities."

The yew York Herald says : " The Standard
Dictionary is a triumph in the art of publication.
. . . It is the most satisfactory and most com-
plete dictionary yet printed.

The St. James's Budget (Gazette), London,
says : "* The Standard Dictionary should be the
pride of literary America, as it is'the admiration
of literary England."

Sold by Subscription only. AGENTS WANTED.

PRICES :

In 1 v..i. In 2 vols.

Half Russia $15.00 $18.00

Full Russia 18.C0 22.00

Morocco 22.00 26.00

If no Agent i< in your town st-ml your subscription to

Funk & Wagnalls Co., 30 Lafayette PL, New York.

Descriptive Circuit*

-nt <>n application.

The Worlds Fair"
Best Flour

Excels All Others in
Purity in Milling and
Excellent Flavor of the Bread.

L. C. PORTER MILLING CO.,

WINONA, MINN.

A. S. RANNEY, Concord, N. H M Gen'l Agent for Wains, Nsw tapsire, Vermont, and Northern Massachusetts.

Tpps&rsi s-««r-r-^^s??v«- ? r*~"^ v^:: r :m ,

*w%^&

4m . *^gann

1$?

"'.V

■» ■•'' • ►

^r" ,

1$ * i i T • &

ST^BL

ill; I

^ ..

lit ?

I ;

££t^«.^.-«&*Ss^Ssifci t ^'**iBit^ s^.ii^Ma&Bci^ta^*;: a£*^ iWfcfc^

£83

The Granite Monthly.

Vol. XX.

JUNE, 1S96.

No. 6.

THE TOWN OF CONWAY.

[Illustrated from photographs by Mr. and Mrs. T. E. M. White. North Conway, N. PI.]

By Mrs. Ellen Mc Roberts Mason.

" From the heart of Waumbek Methna, from the lake that never fails,
Falls the Saco in the green lap of Conway'^ intervales;
There, in wild and virgin freshness, its waters foam and flow,
As when Darby Field first saw them, two hundred vears agro." — Whittier.

luring glow is still reflected upon the
summit of the highest mountain, and
seen by thousands during summer
sunsets and twilights, and by all who
live in the town in winter, sometimes
making the snow-clad crags to flame
like the spires of the celestial city.

In the reign of King George the
Third, while Benning Wentworth
was governor of the province of Xew
Hampshire, a charter was obtained,
dated October 1, 1765, of twenty-
three thousand and forty acres of
land, with the addition of one thou-
sand and forty acres for roads, ponds,
mountains, rocks, etc., for the mak-
ing of the town of Conway. This
land was divided into sixty-nine
equal shares, and each grantee, his
heirs and assigns, was required to
plant and cultivate five acres of land
within the term of five years for each
fifty acres contained in his share.

White pine trees suitable for masts

AXY, many years

7( Q/lM? of the Saco > now

vv - fi&t peaceful stretches of
^ — rich greensward set

with stately elms, were covered with
a magnificent growth of white pines,
some of the most splendid ones tow-
ering to a height of two hundred and
fifty feet, and having a diameter of
from four to six feet.

Through those forest depths there
roamed a powerful tribe of Indians,
the Pequawkets. Their territory
reached from the Notch to the sea.
The central location was in Pig-
wacket, now Fryeburg and Conway.
Here the patient squaws cultivated
cornfields in "cut-downs" and clear-
ings on the intervale.

Up the winding stream of the Saco
passed Darby Field on his way to the
White hills in 1632, in search of the
great carbuncle whose wondrous, al-

345

THE TOWN OF CONWAY.

^& cN^

— J

•"--.-'- *&i

d 1 '- > ■■■

£?%2§^ ; H F :

"T ? -'"'l '

' - : -••••' ' ;■«.-■■•** ,

v ,~- '-'

. \ - *£-

^ "."•-- "' x '

. - ' * ' - '" a •*■

;

- '•:"•'•' ' • '' ' " ''^

; & r

i .. v . jJC*" v

- 3V v i ■

.■^J$ V

■ '. • **"

<*■ ' ■'•.'.•

«"■.- "-.'

"-s," .. >." "■'

•"--•.,

: 41* ' ' "

t?S ■*

~^>

■•' ■ .. . -Ciy

-> . ^->.

•- : -' : .*■ .-^v

jet

• ~J^- ' ' ? - •- ■ "S"

- '/"**'!

': <■■ :-/.-«•*■ \ >*'•-

X-'^' : '

,■ . ..

t * '■

:■ - \ ; VJ

Tne peaceful .ntervale set

were reserved for his majesty's navy ;
the stately growth of the Xew Hamp-
shire river valleys was an undeveloped
mine of untold wealth, but ever after
172 1 there was a special reservation
in all the royal grants of " all white
pines fit for masting the royal navy,"
and wherever the wilderness was trav-
ersed by the surveyors of the royal
forest, the "broad arrow" was marked
upon the grandest trees. To cut these
marked trees for any other purpose
than masts in the royal navy was,
under British law, a felony, and pun-
ishable by a fine of /,"ioo sterling
.for each "mast-tree" cut down. This
.arbitrary reservation caused great in-
dignation, and no doubt was one of
the causes leading to the revolt and
final independence of the colony.-
Each grantee should pa}' annually,

if demanded, one ear of Indian corn
in the month of December, for ten
years ; and after ten years, one shil-
ling proclamation money for every
one hundred acres. - ■

Before any division of the land
was made, one-acre lots were to be
reserved for each grantee, to be for
a goodly city on the plain near where
now Is Redstone. But, alas for the
iron}' of events ! the five acres cleared
for a meeting-house and graveyard,
to belong to the city, were finally
abandoned and neglected, though
some thirty of the early settlers and
their families were interred in the
graveyard.

"Above their dust, the pine tree waves,
Strongly rooted in their graves."

. The phrase, "the acre-lots," is
familiar enough, but it is doubtful if

THE TOWN OriXQNWAY.

3.49

the present generation knows whence
its origin, or even very well what it
means ; and the lots were long years
ago redeemed by the forest, if indeed
they were ever lost to it.

Two shares containing five hun-
dred acres were to be reserved for
Governor YVentworth, one for the
support of the gospel in heathen
lands, one for the Church of Eng-
land, one for first settled minister,
and one for the benefit of schools.

According to M. F. Sweetser, "The
town takes its nametrom that gallant
old- English statesman, Henry Sey-
mour. Conway, Walpole's friend, com-
mander-in-chief of the British arm}',
and, at the time when this mountain
glen was "baptized, a prominent cham-
pion of the liberties of America."

The first meeting of the proprietors,
after due notice, was held in the town
of Chester, at the house of John Web-
ster, Esq., on the second day of De-
cember, 1765, at which meeting they
received the report of the persons
who had been employed to survey
and lot the township, and raised
more money to defray expenses.

General Joseph Frye had been an
officer in the king's army, and in con-
sideration of his gallant deeds on the
frontier, a grant of the Indian town-
ship of Pigwackett was made to him,
dated March 3, 1762, with conditions
of its settlement very similar to those
of a subsequent grant by Xew Hamp-
shire of the township of Conway to
Daniel Foster and others. The in-
tention, it seems, was that the gen-
eral should have a township embrac-
ing all the territory of the Indian
headquarters or homestead, called
Pigwackett, which was supposed to
be located entirely in the. district of
Maine, then belonging to the prov-

ince of ; Massachusetts,, but subse-
quently, on the adjustment, of .the
lilies between , the : province of Xew
Hampshire and' the! district, , it was
found: that over four thousand acres
of;tbe. land granted Frye was in Xew
Hampshire. Finally, the general re-
linquished his land in Conway and
selected an equal number of acres in
Maine.

B\- 176S a dozen families were liv-
ing in Conway, under the Maine
grants, among them several Osgoods,
Dolloffs, and Walkers. Fryeburg
was not incorporated as a town until

-January 11, 1777, and as Conway
was incorporated by its charter,
elected its officers, and ever kept up
its organization, it was the first White

. Mountain town. . \ . '.

History also states, ki That in con-
sequence of the addition of lands by
the adjustment oFihe province line
on the east boundary of the town of
Conway, causing it to exceed the
number of acres granted, this num-
ber of acres was reduced by bringing
the northern line of. the town farther
south, and the subsequent grants to
military heroes were made permanent
on the revised line; " so it transpired
that several of the early settlers who
from the topography of the region
would naturally have been citizens
of the" town 'of Conway, became citi-
zens of the town of Bartlett, and of
course the error has been transmitted

. to their descendants, and endures to
this day. Some of the most impor-
tant summer resorts of . the Xorth
Conway hotel region, so known, are,
according to strict geography, in the
town of Bartlett. ; ■

And so, .by "these strange haps, it

' was that first settlers on the intervale
lots proved to be first settlers of Con-

350

THE TOWN OF CONWAY.

way when they might have I een
expected to be first settlers of Frye-
burg. But in 1765, Ebenexet Bur-
bank, Joshua Heath, and John Dol-
loff commenced a settlement near the
centre of the township, and in 1766
Daniel Foster, Thomas Merrill, and
Thomas Chadbourne commenced the
settlement of North Conway, build-
ing their houses on the intervale.

The Pequawkets seem to have been
better students of nature than the
whites, for they built their dwellings
on land some twenty or thirty feet
above the level of the intervale, while
the first white settlers of North Con-
way uniformly built on the intervales
until the great freshet of 17S5 drove
them to the uplands.

Until the fall of 1765 or spring of
1766, there was nothing more than a
spotted line or a narrow bushed path
from Centre to North Conway, made
for convenience of hunters and ex-
plorers. The course of this from the
province line was graphically de-
scribed as follows : " Our course is up
the valley from the Pequauket settle-
ment, called the l Seven Lots ' (in Frye-
burg), to James Osgood's in East Con-
way, then by a path through pitch-
pine plain land to the outlet of a pond
where subsequently were built what
was for many years called Walker's
mills. Thence along the plain in a
northwesterly direction to the cabin
occupied by Ebenezer Burbank, lo-
cated on the south cant of the hill
northwest of the present town-house,
thence by the house of Joshua Heath,
on the north cant of said hill, the
house in which the town meetings
were held for years. Thence to the
cabin occupied by John Dolloff, on
land now embraced in the beautiful
farm owned and occupied so long by

v .

*-/"

r !

Home of One of the Early Settlers.

the Hon. Joel Eastman (some half-
century ago this place was called the
Odel! place). From thence we ford
the river, soon leaving the intervale
for the level pitch-pine plain at the
point where subsequently was cleared
five acres of ground for a meeting:-
house and graveyard. From this
point we pass up through the thick
pines in a path across level land be-
tween the acre lots, probably the first
permanent road in town. We sweep
to the left from the head of these lots
to the first intervale lot in North Con-
way., then called ' Foster's Pocket.' "
In 1772 a road was granted from Con-
way to Shelburne, Northumberland,
and ILaneaster.

A hunter, named Emery, with sev-
eral companions had, previous to any
settlement, built camps at different
points up the Saco and its tributaries,
from whence they made excursions in
pursuit of game. One of these camps
was on the intervale but a short dis-
tance from where the Kearsarge House
now stands.

Thomas Chadbourne, Esq., who
had the mill privilege on Kesaugh
brook, built a framed house to the
north side of it on the intervale. The
late Rev. B. D. Eastman found a bit
of doggerel written 011 the inside of

THE TOWN OF CONWAY.

35*

the cover of an old Psalter in 1774
which is interesting as showing the
early names of localities. It is evi-
dence of the early use of Kesaugh
and consequently of Kearsarge, the
name " Kesaugh " being derived from
the same Algonquin words as is the
name of the mountain on which it
takes its rise. The highly poetic
and beautiful meaning of the word
is "born of the hill that first shakes
hands with the morning light."

While on the subject of early
names it is interesting to note that
on Dr. Belknap's map, copied from
Mr. Whipple's, inscribed "A rough
sketch of the country near the White
Mountains in New Hampshire, 1764,"
the familiar titles, "Rocky Branch,
East Branch, Moat Mountain, Double
head," appear; Kearsarge is spelled
"Kyasarge," though on the first plan
or map of Chatham, accepted by the
proprietors, October 24, 1792, it is
spelled exactly as it is now.

To return to poetry, the follow-
ing is what was found in the old
Psalter :

" Thre men went up from dolluf town,
And stopt ol Nite at Forsters Pockit
To mak ye Road Bi ingun Hill.
To git clere up to noth pigwokit.
To Emri's Kamp up Kesaugh Brok,
Wha Chadbun is beginnen "

AJas ! an irreverent hand had torn
the rest off, and it is lost to posterity.
Thomas Chadbourne soon sold all
of his interest in the mill lot, with
improvements thereon, including the
first framed house, to Richard East-
man, who came from Pembroke with
four sons to settle here. Soon the
father and one son moved lower
down in Pequawket town, to Frye-
burg, while Richard, Jr., and Noah
remained. In this house was proba-
bly born the first male child in town,

Jonathan Eastman, whose lat?r home
was enlarged for the Artist Falls
House, now the widely known Forest
Glen Keely Institute of North Con-
way. . He lived a long, useful, and
exemplary life, and died in May,
1S68, in the ninety-eighth year of
his peaceful age.

After the great freshet of October,
17S5, Mr. Eastman with all of his
neighbors moved off the intervales.
Writing this at the time of a great
March flood, more than one hundred
and ten years afterwards — no mail
has come through, over either the
Maine Central or Boston & Maine
railroads, for half a week, on account
of bridges having been washed away
— it is very easy to go back in imagi-
nation to those good old times. The
vigorous, old Saco has lost none of
his pristine, uproarious hilarity, upon
occasion, during these hundred years
and more, but now and then rises
twenty-four feet in twenty-four hours,
as in the days of " auld lang syne,"
and escapes from his narrow banks
and rushes over the peaceful inter-
vale, turning it into a turbulent,
gloomy sea.

Esquire Eastman moved his house
to where it now stands in the corner
of the long main street of North Con-
way, and the road that leads to For-
est Glen, close by the bridge that
crosses the mill-stream, Kesaugh
Brook ; it is a characteristic, comfort-
able looking, New England house,
with an air of distinction about it —
to the lover of old associations, cer-
tainly — that no modern house has,
even in this region of beautiful
houses. It stands " end to the road,"
with its quiet front-yard and old trees
to the south ; tall lilac-bushes grow
about it, and cinnamon rose-bushes

352

THE TOWN OF CONWAY.

escape through the fence and crowd
down to the roadside. A date of the
eighteenth century is marked on the
huge chimney. If this house which
has stood more years in this mountain
town than we have been an inde-
pendent nation, could speak, ! what
interesting tilings it might .relate. ; <

For more than thirty years it was
of only one story with a gambrel roof,
and then a son of the family added a
second story with the. root it now has.
The record of the "raising" is pre-
served, and a picturesque narrative it
is. There was a popular superstition
that the ridge-pole of a building
would not stick without "wetting,"
but the writer has too much reverence
and solicitude for the reputation of
the Puritans of the Pequawket plains
to copy the account of the ceremonies
gone through with to avert such a
piece of ill-luck ; it would perhaps be
misunderstood and jeered at. The
roof has always stuck.

Another interesting old house
moved after the great October freshet
to the plateau skirted by the main
street, was the "Three Elms" man-
sion. Joseph Thompson, originally
of Lee, was the builder of this house.
Joseph Thompson was the ancestor of
the builders of the Kearsarge House,
and his son Jonathan's farmhouse
and blacksmith-shop once occupied
the site of that famous hotel.

-The first settlement of both Frye-
burg and Conway was mainly by
people from Concord, and towns in
its vicinity. The tales related by
the hunters, together with the glow-
ing representations of General Frye
and the men in his employ, explor-
ing and surveying his grant, moved
many among the best and the influen-
tial citizens of Concord and Pembroke

(the town bestowed on Love well and
his men) to effect a lodgment in
this then '. vast wilderness possessed
by an Indian tribe that bore a wide-
spread reputation for valor and intel-
ligence. " .

Some came, so history relates, for
the sole "purpose of seeing the bat-
tle-field near the Saco, where their
fathers fell in the horrid strife, where
the dauntless Lovewell lay down his
life, and Chamberlain slew the Pe-
quawket sagamore, Paugus. Many
of the original proprietors never even
visited the township of which they
owned a lawful share, but disposed
of their interests to other sharehold-
ers, or to others of different localities
who were minded to settle in the val-
leys of the Saco. Other original pro-
prietors commenced to improve their
lots and then sold and moved away.

Prominent among the bold spirits
who led in subduing the wilderness
was Col. Andrew McMillan, lord of.
the manor, whose manor-seat was the
time-honored McMillan House. For
his gallant sen-ices in the French
War, his majesty rewarded him with
a tract of land that embraced all of
the intervale on the east side of the
Saco, in what is now Lower Bartlett.
Colonel McMillan was born in Ire-
land, but came here from Concord in
1764 or thereabout, and after setting
off a tier of lots from the river, back,
with sufficient upland to each for
farm uses, he commenced their sale,
at the same time buying largely of
the shares in Conway, and finally
establishing a life residence in North
Conway on a large tract of intervale
and upland, known far and near as
the McMillan farm. He was a large-
hearted, generous man, and his house
was noted for its open hospitality and

THE TOWN OF CONWAY.

— - —

353

33H

k i

generous liv-
ing ; it was
the rendez-
vous of peo-
ple who came
prospecting "j
with reference ;
to settlement,

and became, t_ . %. .'.' ; ^ .>--. .,
of necessity, a ~~— -—--—_

house of enter-
tainment. The colonel was promi-
nent in proprietors' meetings, often
moderator of town meetings, agent
for the town, representative to gen-
eral court, during his life paid the
highest taxes in town, and was re-
ceiver of taxes (when these were paid
in produce).

In consequence of the scarcity of
money a large proportion of the taxes
were paid in articles of produce and
home manufacture, the value of each

article being fixed by the town at the
annual meeting. The month of De-
cember was the tax-paying season
and for convenience several places
were assigned for deposit, and trusty
persons appointed to receive, and
afterwards appropriate, sell, or ex-
change, as was found best. For this

;k^**iiTl^ - -

purpose a storehouse was built across
the road from the McMillan House,
and Colonel McMillan had charge
of the business of receiving and dis-
posing of the various commodities
brought in payment of taxes. In
this house were the scales and meas-
ures for weighing and measuring the
grain, flax, maple sugar, salts, pot
and pearl ashes, hams, bacon, cloth,
etc. After a while they were thrown
into great embarrassment on account
of the depreciation in value of the
continental money. This caused

354

THE TOWN OF CONWAY.

trouble and litigation disturbing to
the peace of the new settlement. As
in all communities there was a differ-
ence of opinion as to the justification
of the war, and so precarious and un-
certain was the state of affairs that an
armed committee of vigilance was or-
ganized by authority.

But when peace was proclaimed,
our independence gained, and the
young men returned from the war
bringing others with them to settle in
the new country*, confidence and quie-
tude returned. The old storehouse
finally became the typical country
store, the first of its sort in the region.

In 1773, one hundred acres of land
at the outlet of Walker's pond (em-
bracing the water privilege) and fifty
acres on each side of the stream and
pond were granted to Capt. Timothy
Walker, who at once built both grist-
mills and saw-mills on his grant.
Colonel McMillan, General Frye, and
Captain Walker did all in their pow-
er to induce immigration to the Pe-
quawket intervales, and they were
very successful. Soon there was an
influx of settlers, not only from Con-
cord and its vicinity, but from Ports-
mouth, Exeter, Dunbarton, Green-
land, Lee, Durham, and other places
in the state.

Thomas Merrill, Esq., was one of
the most active and capable of the
proprietors, and received and de-
served the confidence of his towns-
men. In 1769, when the inhabitants
of Conway and adjacent towns were
in need of a justice of the peace, after
setting forth their want they peti-
tioned in this wise, — "We would
humbly beg liberty to let your Ex-
cellency know that we should be
glad and rejoice if your Excellency
Should appoint to that office Lieut.

Thomas Merrill, of said Conway."
The governor's council also recom-
mended him as a " Suteable person
to be in the Commition for ye Peace,
&c." He was the clerk of the pro-
prietors' meetings and town meetings
for many years, and continued in
public service during his life. He
was a man of unusual education for
those days, and the proprietors'
records, by their expression, gram-
matical construction, and correct
spelling, show this. He owned large
tracts of land on both sides of the
Saco, on which he settled those of his
children who remained in Conway,
generously aiding those who chose a
professional life and sought their for-
tunes in other sections. He lies in
the desolate and forest-grown grave-
yard near the acre-lots, though the
town owes him and his companions
who sleep with him there in that
neglected spot, a monument on which
should be inscribed their bravery, en-
durance, and worth.

Col. David Page moved from Dun-
barton (where his ancestors were
among the grantees) to Concord about
1761, was interested by Colonel Frye
in the Pequawket settlement, and be-
came an early and valuable settler.
Several children were born in Frye-
burg, and then it is recorded that
Jeremiah, born August 12, 1770, was
1 ' Born at Conway ; ' ' and from that
time, for many years, scarcely a pub-
lic petition or document was sent to
the general court but shows Colonel
Page's prominence in Conway. He
was selectman, justice of the peace,
and representative. He was colonel
in the Revolutionary army, and one
of the first trustees of Fryeburg Acad-
emy. He combined with a love of
wild sports and pioneer life, qualities

THE TOWN OF CONWAY.

particularly useful to the young com-
munity, being a man of great push
and positiveness, never acknowledg-
ing defeat ; a good speaker, he was
as read}' at all times to exchange
thrusts with the ablest intellects of
Portsmouth or Dover as he was to do
battle with hostile Indians.

The old Page place was in " Fag-
end, "'or East Conway, and situated
on ' ' Conway street ' ' at the head of
the road leading at right angles from
the road to Fryeburg Village.

then retreating from Canada. He
was captured at the Cedars and suf-
fered terribly before his return. He
was another of the early selectmen.
Col. David Webster, son of John,
lived at "Fag-end," on "Conway
street." He was a leader in the
great eastern land speculation and a
man of much ability.

The Hon. John Pendexter and his
wife Martha came to this wilderness
from Portsmouth, in the winter of
1772 or 1773. The eighty miles were

View from Pendexter Mansion

Joseph Odell was an original pro-
prietor whose family and descendants
exercised for years a potent influence
in affairs of ihe town. Richard Odell
was a trader at Centre Conway, for
a good many years. He acquired
wealth, was prominent in affairs, and
a frequent candidate for important
positions on the Whig ticket. (The
town was Democratic.)

Col. John Webster and his family
w r ere among the earliest settlers. Al-
though quite young, Colonel Web-
ster marched as lieutenant of Capt.
James Osgood's company, early in
the spring of 1776, to the aid of Gen-
eral Montgomery's shattered army

made, Mrs. Pendexter riding an old
horse, with a feather-bed for a saddle,
her husband by her side hauling the
household furniture on a hand sled.
Enduring many hardships their little
log cabin, and afterwards a frame
house, w r ere built on the intervale, and
their first child, sweet Alice Pendex-
ter, was born there : but the sudden
and violent freshets on the Saco and
its tributaries soon warned Mr. Pen-
dexter of the dangerous situation of
his homestead, and he moved to the
upland and built the house since en-
larged, improved, and beautified, and
known far and w r ide as the ' ' Pendex-
ter Mansion."

356

THE TOWN OF CONWAY.

Mr. Pendexter was a strong char-
acter, self-reliant, and .thoroughly in-
dependent ; a man of great executive
ability, he could brook, no opposition
to his proper wish or commands. He-
was a Puritan of the Puritans, always
enforcing a strict observance of the
Sabbath day in his household, and
with his family and among Iils em-
ployes his word was absolute law. A
carpenter, by trade he was especially
useful in the region in tl ose early
times. The Rev. Benjamin G. Wii-
ley in his " Incidents in White Moun-
tain History," has left a vivid de-
scription of Mr. Pendexter' s leader-
ship at house raisings, he directing,
with dividers and rule in hand, mark-
ing the work for the men during the
preparatory process, they executing
his orders with mallet, chisel, and
auger ; then when all was ready, act-
ing as master of the enterprise, man-
ning the spy-shoves and "firming"
'the pick-poles, he was in his element,
about the work he loved best. Even
after he became an old man (he lived
to the age of eighty-three) he used to
be at his work by sunrise, though it
might be several miles away from
home.

Mrs. Pendexter was the worthy
helpmate of such a man, braving the
hardships of a pioneer life, and doing
all in her power to make the home of
his selection a place of quiet and com-
fort. She lived to be ninety-two
years old, and her daughter, the
sweet Alice of the intervale, lived to
be ninety-six, and became the mother
of a line who do her memory honor.

Mr. Pendexter's nearest neighbor
was Captain Elijah Dinsmore, who
had served through the Revolution,
and came here with his wife from
Lee in the dead of winter. They

made the journey on snow-shoes, he
carrying all they had with which to
set up housekeeping in the new eoiin- .
try in a huge pack on his back.
They spent their nights in the open
air, and .slept, if they slept at all, up-
on the snow. Their camp was built
close by John Pendexter's cabin, and
afterwards they built a frame house
in which they "kept tavern," on or
near the: site of the Intervale House.
Generally the log house would be
built in the autumn while the ground
was bare, and families would move in
the winter, drawing hand-sleds on
the top of the hard snow, arriving to
find the house half buried under huge
drifts, and have to shovel a hole
through to find the door.

Other earl}- settlers whose names
should be honored were Deacon Abiel
Lovejoy, Lieut. x\mos Barnes, Capt.
Samuel Willey, and Capt. John Plart.

Abiel Lovejoy came from Concord
to Conway about 177 1 . His father,
Henry Lovejoy, was one of the
grantees, and Abiel first came here
in the interest of his father. He set-
tled on the west side of the Saco, near
the Ledges, where he cultivated his
beautiful farm and lived out his good
and useful life. Deacon Abiel and
his wife were of the eight who organ-
ized the first church in Conway, and
he was the first deacon, and the
" good deacon," for forty years.

Lieut Amos Barnes was a distin-
guished Revolutionary soldier whose
father was killed in the French War.
Amos enlisted in the Revolutionary
army when he was eighteen years
old. Pie was in the Battle of Bunker
Plill, in the retreat from Canada, and
with Washington at the Battle of
Trenton. In January, 1778, he en-
listed for the third time, joined Gen-

THE TOWN OF CONWAY

357

eral Washington's array at Valley
Forge and served for two } r ears. In
1779 he was with General Sullivan in
the Indian country and for two
months was on half allowance of
rations. In 17S0 he returned to Con-
cord and shortly afterward came to
Conway, where he married Polly,
second daughter of Richard Eastman.
Lieutenant Barnes was also an officer
in the .militia, and lieutenant of a
volunteer company at the commence-
ment "of the War of 1S12. He was
an earnest, honest, and industrious
man, who served his day and gen-
eration well. The Barnes family
was a markedly military and patri-
otic one in the early times, and one
of the sons of Lieutenant Amos,
Richard E. Barnes, was an honored
veteran of the 1S12 war, living to a
great age and dying only a few years
ago.

Samuel Willey came from Lee, and
commenced a settlement on Stark's
Location, now Bartlett, and later
moved to North Conway, and lived
on what is now known as the Bige-
low'farm until his death, in 1844,
when he was more than ninety years
of age. The Willey family was much
respected ; among its members were
Samuel Willey, Jr., who perished
with all his family in the heart-rend-
ing disaster of the great avalanche in
the White Mountain Notch in 1S26,
and the Rev. Benjamin G. Willey,
the second pastor of the Congrega-
tional church in Conway, and author
of one of the most valuable and in-
teresting works on White Mountain
history that has ever been written.
Benjamin Willey had a striking face,
his likeness suggesting strongly the
likenesses of the German poet, Heine,
though the difference in the religious

tenets of the two must have been still
more striking !

Capt. John Hart came from Ports-
mouth, and settled on the west side
of the Saco, near Cathedral ledge,
which for years was called Hart's
ledge for him. The old stage road
from, Conway through the notch,
passed his door, and he kept one of
the early inns. The memory of a
daughter of the family will always
be kept green in the North Conway
Woman's Club. Several letters, part
of a Correspondence between Honor
Hart and Josiah Merrill (a theologi-
cal student) at the beginning of this
century, had been found in one of the
old houses of the place, and were read
at one of the club meetings. Honor
Hart was deeply versed in polemic
discussion, as became the women of
her day. She answered abstruse
questions as to doctrine, held forth
at some length on the highest aim
of man, but she delighted the club
most of all when she straitly charged
Josiah Merrill never, never to show
her letters !

Another daughter of the race, Mrs.
Martha Whitaker, widow of Squire
Charles Whitaker, an important man
of the first half of this century, in-
herits all the fluency of expression
and aptness of quotation that made
Honor Hart so admirable a letter-
writer and exponent of doctrine.

Those were stern old times when
the difficulties in the way of subdu-
ing the wilderness were increased by
the dangers. It was necessary not
only that the men should be cour-
ageous and bold, they must be good
athletes, able to whip a bear in a
stand-up, or rough-and-tumble, fight.
Athletics in those days meant some-
thing more than being able to play a

358

THE TOWN OF CONWAY.

showy game of base-ball for the de-
lectation of the summer girls seated
by the hundreds of a mid-summer
afternoon, on the rising hill that
forms a natural amphitheatre to the
North Conway base-ball grounds —
though this is very nice.

The bear stories of the region
would fill a volume. One is so very
delightful that it must be put in this
sketch: "A mile south of Conway
Corner, on the road to Eaton, a small
hill rises very abruptlj* from a little
pond of water. One of the early set-
tlers, Stephen Allard, a very strong,
athletic man was going up this hill
one intensely dark night. Near the
summit he came suddenly and un-
awares into the warm embrace of a
big bear. The bear, more on the
alert than himself, had snuffed his
approach and to give him a cordial
welcome had risen on her hind legs
and spread out her fore ones. The
man immediately knew his antagonist
and a regular wrestling bout began
between the two. The bear hugged,
and the man tripped. By a dex-
terous trick he at last threw the bear
off her feet, and the two went down
together. The hill was so steep that
they commenced to roll over, first one
on top and then the other, nothing
stopping them until they tumbled
splash into the pond. Crawling wet
and dripping out of the water, neither
felt inclined to renew the contest.

And these were the days of the
good old-fashioned families. Seven-
teen of Mr. Richard Eastman's eigh-
teen children were born in the house
moved off the intervale, and his
second wife was a widow with two
children, so a full score was sheltered
and grew up under the old roof-tree.
As all of Richard Eastman's children,

except one, married and raised chil-
dren, and his brothers, Deacon Abi-
athar Eastman and Noah Eastman,
were also blessed with large families
who in their turn had many descend-
ants, it is safe to say that the posterity
of these three brothers is more numer-
ous than that of any other three set-
tlers in the Saco valley. At the dis-
tribution of the Christmas gifts at
Grace Chapel a year ago, a young
lady in the audience declared she
counted the names of over one hun-
dred and fifty Eastmans, when a
funny occurrence made her lose the
count !

Richard Eastman's house, after its
removal to the upland, occupied in
those da}*s a very central business
position, as in the vicinity there were
the mills, the tavern, and the black-
smith-shop. He was a young man of
strong mind and body and so threw
his earnest nature into the public
matters of the town as to form a part
of its very existence. The formation
of the first church, military affairs,
the schools and roads, all were sub-
jects of his thought and labor. He
was justice of the peace and often
the town clerk, and one of the
rooms of the old house was used
as a business office, and for the pub-
lic library of which he was librarian.
He was generally employed to draw
up the deeds, bills of sale, petitions
and plans and the like, and furnishes
a fine example of the versatile lead-
ing citizen of those times.

Noah Eastman was the village
miller for fifty years and was called
14 Honest Noah," though in his later
life he was affectionately addressed as
"Uncle Noah." He worked early
and late and what with poor lights
and the great quantity of grain

THE TOWN OF CONWAY.

359

brought by the people of " Hard-'
scrabble" (as Kearsarge Village was
then called), after ordinary working
hours, he sometimes made mistakes —
honest though his intentions were.
One of the gems of nursery* literature
that used to be sung by the children
to the tune of Yankee Doodle, and
was popular all through the region,
owes its inspiration to one of the good
old miller's mistakes. Colonel Mc-
Millan, wishing to improve his corn

i &&

' Pa
*J3f y -

"ffl

. V

** i

Molly Ocket when She was Young,

by getting an earlier kind, obtained
a promise from Molly Ocket, a squaw
of the Pequawket tribe, who made
annual visits from Canada to her na-
tive home, to bring him a small sack
of seed corn the next spring. In the
spring she came as usual, and al-
though it was getting dusk as she
came along, she thought she could
not pass by without calling a moment
on the family of Squire Eastman.
She laid the sack down by some mill-
logs between the mill and his house,
and during her absence it was dis-
covered and carried into the mill and

the com was ground. Hence the
verse, —

" Molly Ocket lost her pocket,
L.ydia Fisher found it ;
Lydia carried it to the mill,
And Uncle Noah ground it."

Molly Ocket was much esteemed
by the first settlers and with reason.
One Tomhegan (or Tom Hegan) was
very active in his enmity toward the
whites and had formed the design of
killing a Colonel Clark of Boston,
who came annually to the White
Mountains to trade for furs. But
quite contrary to his usual shrewd-
ness, the plotter had explained how
he meant to proceed to some of his
companions. One of them — when
under the influence of liquor — told
the secret to Molly Ocket, and she
determined to save Colonel Clark's
life. To do it she must traverse a
wilderness of mam- miles to his camp,
but nothing daunted she set out early
in the evening of the intended mas-
sacre and reached the camp just in
season for him to escape with his pre-
server to the settlements. Tomhegan
had already killed two of Clark's
companions encamped a mile or two
distant.

Colonel Clark's gratitude knew no
bounds; and the good squaw in her
old age, overcome by his earnest en-
treaties and the difficulty of support-
ing herself, became an inmate of his
family in Boston. For a year she
bore with a martyr's endurance, the
restraints of civilized life ; but at
length she could bear it no longer.
She must die, she said, in the great
forest, amid the trees, the compan-
ions of her youth. The Rev. Benja-
min G. Willey says that, " devotedly
pious, she sighed for the woods,
where, under the clear blue sky, she

;3?°

THE TOWN, OF CONWAY.

t might pray to God, as she had when
first converted " ; but one cannot help

• suspecting that the promptings of
nature and heredity had something
to do with it, and that she longed to
act herself, and sit upon the ground

; to eat her meals when she chose V.
Colonel Clark saw her distress, and

; built her a wigwam in her dear loved
woods; he used often, to visit her,
and supported her" for tlie remainder
of her days. .' ;.

: The. last meeting oi the proprie-

„• tors of Conway was hokterTiii. Ports-

- ."mouth, .'August' 31,; 1769:. The first
-; regular ' meeting Of", the * qualified : in-

- habitants to vote in annual meetings
was holden in . Conway .at the house
of Capt. Joshua Heath', iiui-keeper.
At the meeting in 1773 they voted'to
build a meeting-house, and to settle a
minister. This meeting had four ad-
journed sessions, mainly with regard
to the building of the meeting-house.
It was located "as near the geograph-
ical centre of the town as it was sup-

■ posed possible to place it, and in a
. portion of the town deemed eligible

for a. city, on the plains below Pine
. hill and the Rattlesnake projection of

the Green Hill range." But this lo-
• cation, after other settlements were
•.made, did not seem to' be the right
-one,., and in a few years this .first

- meeting-house (which had never been
j completed, though some of the 'early
t settlers, as before mentioned, had al-
: really been laid to rest in the grave-
;yard that surrounded it) was taken
. down* and moved near to the grave-
. yard ; at. Conway Centre. At : first

- there were religious sendees . when-

- ever.,they could be obtained. The
-JRe\V. Timothy Walker, "a learned,
, orthodox 'minister of the Plantation

of. Pennycook;" some of whose par-

ishioners had emigrated to " Pkr-

o - o

wacket, upon the Saco,." "used" often
to visit them, making the long-' jour-
ney on horseback. In 1771 a Mr.
Kelly preached part of the year.
Previous to 1774 Mr. Moses Adams
had preached 011 probation, and re-
ceived a "call" (which he did not
accept) to settle permanently ' in
Conway. The Rev. William Fes-
senden, of Fryeburg, used to preach
for them after this until the Rev.
Nathaniel Porter, D. D., was in-
stalled pastor, October 28, 177S. On
the iSth of August of that year, Mr.
Fessenden had ' ' gathered into ' The
Church of Christ in Conway ' " these
eight persons : Timothy Walker, Mar-
tha Walker, Abiel Lovejoy, Anna
Lovejoy, Thomas Russell, Sarah Rus-
sell, Richard Eastman, Abiah East-
man.

Dr. Porter was a man of learning.
He was graduated from Harvard Col-
lege in 176S, and during the Revolu-
tion was chaplain in the Continental
army when it was encamped around
Boston. He had a keen intellect and
sharp wit ; religious controversies or
discussions never disturbed the even
tenor of his way or belief. It is re-
corded of him that, " He did not aim
to excite the passions, but to reach
the heart and consciences of memby
convincing the understanding."

His pastorate here was full of 'hard-
ships ; his days were occupied with
hard labor on his farm, and at night
by the blaze of pitch-knots' he wrote
his sermons. Benjamin G. Willey
wrote : "In going to his meetings
on the Sabbath, which were always
miles from his home, he generally
went, in early times especially, on
horseback, often facing a stiff north-
west wind. The same was true in

THE TOWN OF CONWAY.

361

>/"g

' \

: v ■

iff!

- 1

East Conway Meado'

relation to the funerals he attended,
and his weddings and visitings. He
never knew much about the luxury
of an easy carriage."
. The town voted to pa}- Dr. Porter
£55, the first year, and his salary
was never very much larger than
that. He continued in charge until
his death, November 10, 1836, at the
age of ninety-three years, though in
his later life, assistants were employed
to help him. He did his duty faith-
fully, and his works will follow him
through unborn generations among
these mountains. :

The Baptists were not long inform-
ing a church organization of their own
At first ever}' freeholder was taxed for
his part of the minister's salary and
was obliged to pay unless he could
prove that he paid toward the support
of a minister of another denomina-
tion from that of the one employed by
the town. The town employed a pas-
tor of the Congregational faith, so in
1795 Thomas Densmore, John Thomp-
son', Isaac Chase, Enoch Merrill, Aus-
tin George, Amos Merrill, and CapL
John Chase protested against paying
their minister's tax and certified that

" they have given themselves as mem-
bers of the society of that Branch of
the Baptist Church of Christ in Sand-
wich belonging to Eaton and do Sup-
port the Preaching of the Gospel
hear to our Satisfaction."

The Baptist society of Conway
was formed at the house of Samuel
Willey August 26, 1796. October 19
of that year " Richard R. Smith was
ordained minister by a council held
at the house of brother Elijah Dens-
more. Senior/' A parsonage farm was
purchased for Elder Smith, the place
now owned by Mr: Frank Allard.

In 1S00, "The inhabitants of Con-
way voted to exempt the Baptists
from all the Minister tax that now
stands against them provided the sd
Baptists Petition the General Court
the next Session to be Incorporated
into a Separate Society and that the
town will give their Approbation."

After varying fortune and rise and
fall there was a reorganization of the
Baptist society in 1S36,. 'an ecclesi-
astical council being convened on the
14th of June, for the purpose. At
this council the following naive reso-
lution was passed unanimously :

36:

THE TOWN OF CONWAY.

"Resolved, That we will not make
use of ardent spirits only as a medi-
cine, neither will we admit to our
fellowship any who use ardent spirits
as a drink."

In 1S3S the Baptist meeting-house
was built at North Conway ; previous
to this, meetings had been held in
dwelling-houses, barns, and school-
houses. Mrs. Betsy Whitaker, now
the oldest living member, was ad-
mitted to fellowship in 1837.

The whirligig of time brings strange
changes. In these days the beautiful
name of Kearsarge Village seems a
most appropriate title for a beautiful
place, but Mr. Eastman says that
when it was so called, the name of
" Hardscrabble " was singularly ap-
propriate. The intervale lands were
so valuable that it was impossible for
those who had no other means than
the labor of their hands to procure an
intervale farm in such condition as to
meet their immediate wants, so they
located on the back upland lots, and
supported themselves and their fami-
lies by working the greater part of
their time " by the day" for the in-
tervale farmers. The women and
children were also employed in the
busiest seasons, and he draws a
graphic picture of whole families
working together in the fields at
planting-time or harvest. In plant-
ing-time the men did the "holeing,"
the children dropped the corn in the
hill, and the women covered it. The
men mowed and pitched the hay, the
boys spreading, and the women rak-
ing it. Whole families pulled and
shocked or spread the flax. If at
these seasons there came up showers
severe enough to stop out-door work,
the energetic old housewives would al-
ways find a little something for each

one to do while they rested ! There
was always wool to pick or spin, corn
to shell, flax to comb, beans to pick
over, and the pewter to scour, so there
was scant time or place for rust or idle-
ness. A day's work was from sun-
rise to sunset at the spot where the
work was to be performed, so they
had to travel from one to three miles
before sunrise, and then after sunset
often take their wages in grain upon
their shoulders, go to the mill and
get it ground, and from there home
at the end of the day's work.

A picturesque character of the
early Conway days was Dr. Alex-
ander Ramsey, a learned Scotch phy-
sician and professor of McGill Col-
lege, Montreal. lie had a small
medical school here, usually number-
ing from a dozen to twenty students,
in a house now forming a part of the
Sunset Pavilion. Those were the
days when subjects for dissection
were obtained with great difficulty,
and grewsome were the tales told of
the robbing of graveyards by Dr.
Ramsey's students. Xot for a great
deal would the writer tell which room
in the ' ' Sunset ' ' was once Dr. Ram-
sey's dissecting-room.

He was said to have the largest and
best collection of charts and anatom-
ical preparations in the United States,
excepting only that of the Medical
College of Philadelphia. In winter he
used to visit Canada, lecturing in
Montreal and Quebec where his abil-
ity was so highly appreciated that
they paid him three hundred dollars
for each evening lecture, and urged
him to return year after year. Mr.
Seth Chase of East Conway used to
go with him as factotum, driving the
team of two strong horses, the sleigh
filled with blankets, buffalo rugs, and

THE TOWN OF CONWAY.

363

several cases of specimens for illustra-
tions. He was an able speaker, elo-
quent and magnetic, with a clear, dis-
tinct utterance and a fascinating
brogue. In Conway he usually lec-
tured only to his students, but occa-
sional!}- he would give a public eve-
ning lecture to propagate his theories
as to proper modes of living. He
was a great hater of pork, or " hog-
meat " as he called it, which he con-
tended was the deposit of scrofula,
and — largely at his own expense, so
great was his determination and zeal
— he got henhouses built and the
people to raising chickens and eggs
as a substitute for the hated "hog-
meat." But he left the country dur-
ing the War of 1S12, returning after
peace was proclaimed, and to his in-
dignation and disgust found many of
his charge returned to their " wallow-
ing, ' ' as in his wrath he cursed the
eating of pork. He rode through the
neighborhood storming and upbraid-
ing, and when a pious deacon took
him to task for profanity, he asserted
that the. swine were " damned " since
Scripture taught they were the appro-
priate vehicles for devils to ride to
destruction in, away from the pres-
ence of virtue.

The doctor was said to have a life
annuity of some twelve dollars per
day which he expended principally
for the benefit of the people of the
town, in establishing theories in
accordance with his convictions and
in relieving the poor and needy, for
his benevolence and liberality were
unbounded.

The ' ' young doctors ' ' were the
social lions of the town. They
boarded at the different farmhouses
of the neighborhood, and Mr. East-
man says that the beginning of the

summer boarding business in North
Conway was Dr. Ramsey's medical
school. A party of the students were
the first to ascend Mount Washington
from the east side through the un-
broken forest. They got lost and
wandered around for two or three
days and came near starving, but at
last, in sorry plight, they were brought
back to town where they were more
talked about than ever — that peren-
nial delight to the student heart.

The awful tragedy of the White
Mountain Xotch caused great sorrow
in Conway. The privation and pov-
erty of those times drew people closer
together than do the prosperity and
plenty of these, and the ties of neigh-
borhood were guaranties of sympa-
thy, loving kindness, and help to the
utmost. Samuel Willey, Jr., being
the son of Capt. Samuel Willey, and
Polly Willey, the wife and mother,
being the daughter of Deacon Abiel
Lovejoy, and the first settlers being
nearly all related by inter-marriages,
the slide was of the nature of a family
affliction to the dwellers on the Pe-
quawket plains.

In the autumn of 1S25, Samuel
Willey, Jr., with his family, moved
into the ''Willey House," in the
notch. They went to open a pub-
lic house, sorely needed by travellers
through the deep-drifted mountain
gorge in winter, as. there was no
stopping place between the old Craw-
ford House and the Rosebrook place,
a distance of thirteen miles. So Mr.
Willey was hailed as a benefactor,
and during the next winter he and
his shelter were greeted with as much
warmth by travellers through the
mountain pass, as the monks of St.
Bernard by the wanderers upon the
Alps.

364

THE TOWN OF CONWAY

On that dreadful Monday night of
the 28th of August, 1S26, the Saco
did immense damage, and all day
Tuesday and up to the close of the
day Wednesday, all the men of the
neighborhood were engaged "swim-
ming cattle and horses and boating
sheep from patches of land surround-
ed with water, on the intervale lands
in Conway and Lower Bartlett."
Towards dusk the town physician,
Dr. William Chadbourne, a veritable
"doctor of the old school," was on
his way home from Bartlett, whither
he had breasted the floods to visit his
patients; he hailed the men, and told
them that a man had come through
the notch, staying the night before at
the Willey House, and that no human
beings were there. Immediately all
who could safely endure the severity
of such a trip commenced moving in
that direction.

The flood had made the way well-
nigh impassable, but the strong and
athletic pushed over every incum-
brance, climbing over rocks, trees,
and brush, and wading through the
yet swift-running waters. Some who
had not the power of endurance,

■

XM& M te m h LfeH^^ .

Moat Mountain from Conway Bridge, Cor.wa

stopped at farmhouses until the next
morning. Two pressed on to the old
Crawford House where they learned
that a small party had left there an
hour before. It was past midnight,
but they replenished their tin lan-
terns, and after snatching a hasty
lunch, resumed the journey and over-
took the others, who had been de-
layed by having to fell trees on which
to cross the streams. They arrived
at the Willey House before daylight,
and by the flickering light of the
lanterns entered that desolate house,
from which had fled their trembling
and horror-stricken friends to meet a
fate they were trying to shun. When
daylight dawned they commenced
the search whose result all the world
.knows.

The Rev. Mr. Eastman was the
last, survivor of the searching party
that went up from Conway, and the
writer was once one of several to visit
with, him the scene of the slide more
than fifty years after its occurrence.
He was greatly affected and tears
rolled down his aged cheeks when he
told of how they entered the desolated
home. Upon the table lay the open
Bible, the goodmarf s spec-
tacles marking the chap-
ter he had read at family
, .- 1 prayers that last dismal
night ; a candle-stick stood
beside it. There was the
j trundle-bed in which the
,\ three youngest children
. j had slept, the little shoes
and stockings they had
I taken off for the last time,
with other wearing apparel
lying near. The bread
was set to raise in a cor-
ner of the hearth and cov-
ered with a white cloth. It

£&^

lilt, 1VWN OF CON W AY.

was a homely, domestic
scene, but oh, what a pall
had fallen upon it !

One common wide grave
was dug for the bodies
after the dreadful search
was ended, and Elder Sam-
uel Haseltine, a personal
friend of the family, per-
formed the burial service.
When with slow and dis-
tinct utterance, at the com-
mencement of his prayer
he referred to the mag- i —
nificence of the Deity, as
described by the Prophet **.*?«

Isaiah, saying, "Who hath meas-
ured the waters in the hollow of his
hand, and meted out heaven with a
span, and comprehended the dust of
the earth in a measure, and weighed
the mountains in scales, and the hills
in a balance," the echo from the
mountains gave back even.' word of
this sublime description in a tone
equally clear and solemn with that in
which they were first uttered. The
scene in that wild glen was soul-stir-
ring and heart-rending beyond de-
scription.

"And then one summer evening's close
We left them to their last repose."

The following winter the bodies
were re-interred in the family grave-
yard on what is now the Bigelow
farm.

The object of this sketch is prima-
rily to show the sort of times those
were when the town of Conway was
first settled, and the sort of men the
first settlers were. The history of
the years that came afterward is fa-
miliar as a nursery tale to all who
know anything of White Mountain
history. It has been written and re-

36S-

, J

■ : i

East Branch House and Pitman Hall, Lower Bartlett

written by the tribe of newspaper cor-
respondents for the last score of years,
and if it seem that the present writer
gives scant space to it, she begs to
assure her readers that it is only be-
cause she does not wish to bore them
with what they have been told a
thousand times already.

In 1S25 a few summer tourists be-
gan to come to the region. Then
the taverns were Thomas Abbott's
Pequawket House, at Conway ; Ben-
jamin Osgood's, at Black Cat, in the
lower end of the town ; the McMillan
House, Daniel Postman's Washing-
ton House, S. W. Thompson's small
tavern, where now stands the Kear-
sarge, at North Conway; and the
Meserve's Eastering Branch House,
at Lower Bartlett, on the site of the
Pitmans' beautiful, though less poet-
ically called, hotel of the same name.

From 1S25 the tourists increased in
numbers, but only tourists came, for
it was not till late into the thirties
that people came to pass the entire
season. At that time the three ham-
lets of Conway were but little dots
along the pleasant, winding roads,
with Chatauque or Conway Corner

:66

THE TOWN OF CONWAY.

as the starting-point for various stage
lines to distant parts of the state.
There were lines from Concord, Do-
ver, Littleton, and also one from Port-
land ; these were mail routes. From
1825 to 1S29 Samuel \V. Thompson
carried the mail from Conway to Lit-
tleton once a week on horseback;
after that a two-horse team was driv-
en over the route until the stage line
was established. In 1775 a messen-
ger had brought i£ ye post monthly,"
and in 17S1 the state had employed
" a mounted post-rider" to bring mail
fortnightly from Portsmouth, so those
mail-coach days were stirring times
indeed !

Most of the tourists came on the
coach from Centre Harbor, though
the other lines were well patronized.
It was an exhilarating sight to see
the picturesque coaches and prancing
horses careering along, the jolly driv-
er cracking his long whip, passengers
crowded on top and inside, the rum-
bles piled high with luggage. The
older people and conservative and
pessimistically inclined people de-
clare that those were the best days in
the business prosperity of the town,
and indeed it is sometimes hard not
to believe that they really were.

Great numbers of people travelled
by private conveyances through
the mountains, vastly more than do
now. Samuel W. Thompson and
John Smith put on an opposition
stage line from Portland to the old
Crawford House, and times were still
livelier. It soon began to be evident
that North Conway was going to be
the summer metropolis of the east
side. In 1850 Samuel Thom, Na-
thaniel Abbott, and Hiram C. Abbott
built the Conway House, the finest
hotel in the north part of the state,

and put it in charge of that famous
landlord, Horace Fabyan.

From this time until the two rail-
roads entered the town at the begin-
ning of the seventies, there were sev-
eral men whose names inevitably
occur to those who knew Conway in
its transition state. At Conway vil-
lage the prominent men were Hiram
C. Abbott, Samuel Thorn, William
K. Eastman, and Jonathan T. Chase,
the first judge of probate of Carroll
county. At Conway Centre, was the
great lawyer, Joel Eastman, who was
United States district attorney and
held man}- other offices with distinc-
tion, and of whom it was said that
''if he had lived in Exeter or Con-
cord there is scarcely a doubt but
that he would have passed many
years of his life in Congress." No
lawyer of his time in New Hamp-
shire was more eloquent in address-
ing a jury. Leander S. Morton was
another important man at Conway
Center, a trader on a large scale,
selectman, representative, and town
clerk for eighteen years. At North
Conway were John McMillan, lord of
the manor at the McMillan House,
as his grandfather Andrew had been
before him, and whose witticisms and
bon mots were current coin of the east
side, Samuel W. Thompson, the
builder and for many years proprie-
tor of the Kearsarge, Nathaniel R.
Mason. W. H. H. Trickey, Stephen
Mudgett, Isaac Edwin Merrill.
These men contributed to the growth
and prosperity and helped to estab-
lish the present fame of the place.

Landscape painters, too, ' Benjamin
Champney and his friends, had done
much to spread abroad a knowledge
of the grandeur and beauty of the
scenery. Mr. Champney first came

THE TOWN OF COX WAY.

367

here in 183S. He writes : " For some
time I had been studying a series of
illustrations, drawn by an English
artist named Bartlett, and engraved
in England in a pleasing, captivating
manner. These pictures so inflamed
the imaginations of a young artist
friend and myself that we resolved to
consecrate our first sketching trip to
the study of the same scen-
ery." In 1S50 Mr. Champ-
ney came again, and with
him Mr. J. W. Casilear and
Mr. J. F, Kensett, Kensett
painting at that time, from
the point where now stands
the Hon. Payson Tucker's
beautiful summer house, the
picture that became so widely
known, " The White Moun-
tains and valley of the Saco,
from Sunset Hill, North Con-
way." Mr. Champney says,
' ' We went to the Kearsarge
House, then kept, as it was
for many years after, by Mr.
S.W.Thompson. We inter-

and persuasive speaker it was easy
for him to induce the town of Conway
to raise five per cent, of its valuation
for the building of the road. His
brother, the late lamented John An-
derson, was a famous engineer who
maintained that the bridging of the
terrific gorges of the Notch was possi-
ble, and accomplished it after it had

viewed him and he agreed to

board us for the modest sum
of three dollars per week."
After that artists came in doz-
ens and scores to the region.
and its fame grew apace.

With the coming of the
Portland & Ogdensburg
(now the Maine Central) and East-
ern railroads the names of three men
must always be associated in Con-
way; those of Gen. Samuel J. An-
derson and John Anderson of Port-
land and the Hon. John W. Sanborn
of Wolfeborough Junction (now San-
bornville) . General Anderson was
the president of the Portland & Og-
densburg and a foremost promoter of
its construction. Being a most gifted

• •■-.'-• " '.

Ecno Lake and Nortn Conway, from White Horse Ledge.

■ - ■■r'*..'.

been repeatedly declared impossible
by other engineers. The Hon. John
W. Sanborn has been one of the most
important factors in the development
of the Eastern, afterwards the Boston
& Maine railroad, the continuation of
whose line to here has made such a
difference in the life and business of
the town.

But the Conway of to-day : here
again one approaches what, notwith-

36S

i
I S

THE TOWN OF CONWAY,

*u\ \&

■--

•*$£§&&**

"•' *« dim*.

Walkers Pond, Conway Centre.

standing its fascination, is felt to be a
threadbare theme, for the letters of
the summer correspondent have made
it a household phrase wherever the
name of the White Mountains has
ever been heard. The great, and
thus far only partially developed, re-
source of the town is its natural scen-
ery. Bishop Niles, of New Hamp-
shire, is fond of saying that " taking
North Conway as the centre of the
radii, the drives for ten miles in all
directions about it, are not to be
equalled for beauty and charm in any
other part of this country, or in Eu-
rope, in a similar extent of territory."
This statement ought probably to be
changed by setting the length of the
radii at fifteen miles instead of ten.

The roads that lead from one to the
other of the three oldest settlements
of North Conway, Conway (or
Chatauque as it used to be prettily
called), and Conway Centre, might
be said to form an isosceles tri-
angle, extended north and south,
North Conway at the northern ver-
tex, Conway and Conway Centre at
the southwestern and southeastern
vertices, respectively, the road con-
necting Conway and Conway Centre
forming the base of the triangle.

Every one in North Conway is
either directly or indirectly inter-
ested in the summer hotel busi-
ness. The neighborhood includes
North Conway, Intervale, Lower
Bartlett, and Kearsarge Village.
The best known hotels are the
Kearsarge, the Sunset Pavilion,
Eastman House, Intervale House,
the Bellevue, East Branch House,
Pitman Hall, the Ridge and Rus-
H sell Cottages, and there are a great
mam* smaller hotels and boarding-
houses, and the number of these
increases each year.

There are six places of worship in
this neighborhood. Christ church
(Protestant Episcopal) is under the
rectorship of the Rev. William Greer.
The Rev. William B. Allis is pastor
of the Congregational society, and
the Rev. Albert B. Todd of the Bap-
tists'. The Methodist minister is the
Rev. Charles E. Jones. Mr. Greer
holds services Sunday afternoons at
Grace chapel, Kearsarge, and the
Methodist minister preaches Sunday
forenoons at the meeting-house in
Eower Bartlett, and afternoons at the
North Conway meeting-house ; and
in summer time the Rev. Dr. John
Worcester (a Swedenborgian clergy-
man) preaches every Sunday in his
little chapel, at his summer place at
Intervale.

There is the usual number of fra-
ternal and social organizations at
North Conway : a large lodge of
Free Masons (a Royal Arch chapter
was also established last autumn),
Odd Fellows, Knights of Pythias,
Independent Order of Red Men, and
the Moat Mountain Good Templars
lodges, the latter very recently
formed. The poetically named Pe-
quawket Grange is an important and

THE TOWN OF CONWAY.

369

helpful organization, and there is a
live Woman's Club that is coming to
have more and more a potent influ-
ence in the community. A chapter
of the Daughters of the American
Revolution is also in process of for-
mation : Mrs. Annie K. Richer of
the Kcarsarge has been appointed
regent. The Keely Institute has
done a noble work, and since it was
first opened in 1S91, its influence has
been felt all over the country. There
is an admirable public library and a
good circulating library. The White
Mountain Reporter, a newsy little
sheet, is published here ; Mr. and
Mrs. C. E. Blanehard are the editors
and publishers.

There is an excellent system of
water-works, the pure and unfailing
supply being from a reservoir on
Artist's brook, above Artist's Falls.
There are two very well known min-
eral springs, the White Mountain, at
the foot of Pine hill, and the Forest
Glen, at the Keely Institute estab-
lishment. And this summer it is
hoped that the streets and buildings
may be lighted by electricity, the
Bethlehem Electric Light Company
having purchased Goodrich Falls and
at the present writing being about to
put in their plant there.

There are two physicians, George
II. Shedd and John Z. Shedd. The
Shedd brothers are studious and
clever men in their profession.
There are also two lawyers, the Hon.
G. W. M. Pitman and Frederic B.
Osgood, Esq. Judge Pitman (he was
judge of probate iS-4-'76) has been
as conspicuous in the politics as in
the law of Carroll county, having
been elected thirteen times as repre-
sentative and twice as senator from
his district. He has also been a

member of three constitutional con-
ventions in New Hampshire, those of
1S50, 1876, and 1SS9, a distinction
said to have been conferred upon no
other citizen of the state. One of
Judge Pitman's sons, the Hon. Ly-
eurgus Pitman, is one of the leading
and most public-spirited citizens of
Xorth Conway, and has also been
prominent in politics. He served as
state senator in 1SS6. Mr. Osgood is
a scholarly and able man, known as
one of the best lawyers of the county,
and with a constantly increasing rep-
utation. From 1SS6 to 1SS9 inclu-
sive, he served as county solicitor.

Mr. X. W. Pease, one of the im-
portant men of the town, and one of
the present Republican representa-
tives in the state legislature, has his
home at Xorth Conway.

Jmst why Xorth Conway instead of
Conway Corner (at present known as
Coisway) should have become the
suriiimer resort, after early circum-
stances changed and lines of travel
were adjusted, is one of the things in
the development of the town that is
not easy to understand. The land-
scape views at Conway are beau-
tiful, and several of them are ex-
ceptionally so. The junction of
the Saco and Swift rivers, around

■

? :

:*vr ja'jfe l_j.

Scene at Redstone Quarry.

37°

THE TOWN OF CONWAY.

a thick-wooded, tiny inland, with
Mount Washington up the long val-
ley vista ; the magnificent panorama
of mountains unrolled from the crest
of the little hill at the northern end of
the village ; Mount Chocorua from
the lower end ; the lovely stretch of
the Saco intervale walled by the great
mountain-ranges to the north of the
main road on which stands that
ancient tavern, the Pequawket House,
these are not surpassed in New
Hampshire, nor often equalled.

It was the Pequawket House that
Whittier described as,

". . . that quiet inn
Which looks from Conway on the mountains

piled
Heavily against the horizon of the north
Like summer thunder-clouds."

An old guide-book published in
1825 instructs tourists to "stop at
Abbott's, which is a good private
inn," and goes on to say, "at that
place the range of the White Moun-
tains opens to view in the most mag-
nificent manner."

But there is a valuable water power
on the Pequawket stream that flows
through the village, and Conway was
early engaged in manufacturing. The.
whole year round, it is by far the
most important part of the town.
Its furniture and dry-goods shops,
though they are still called ' ' stores ' '
here, are like those one finds in cities.

Sturtevarrt's peg-wood mill, and
John B. Smith's chair and ladder
factor)- are considerable industries,
and A. C. Kennett's spool factory is
an exceedingly valuable one, doing
a business of $100,000 a year. Spools
for both cotton and silk are made and
shipped all over the country, though
the larger part goes to Clark's Mile
End Spool Cotton Company, of New-
ark, N. J. This is the only spool

mill in New Hampshire and there are
only eleven in the whole United
states. The peg-mill was the first
ever built to make the ribbon peg.
The pegs are sent to the shoe towns
of tiiis country, to Montreal, and a
great many to German}*.

Mr. B. F. Clark is superintendent
of the Sturtevant mill. Both he and
Mr. Keunett are distinguished Re-
publicans, Mr. Clark having served
in trie legislature of the state as rep-
resentative in 1 89 1 and 1893, and
Mr. Kennett in 1895. Mr. Kennett
is also chosen alternate delegate to
attend the Republican presidential
convention at St. Louis in June.

Ttae Conway Savings Bank, char-
tered in 1869, is an important factor
in the progress of the whole town as
well as of Conway Village. It has
been conservatively managed and
very successful. B. F. Clark is the
president, and Christopher W. Wild-
er, the treasurer. Mr. Wilder is one
of Conway's leading men, and has
been much in public life.

There is a single meeting-house
that suffices for both Congregation-
alists and Methodists, the Methodists
using; it in the forenoon and the Con-
greg^ationalists in the afternoon, a
worths* example of denominational
toleration surely not often observable.
The Rev. J. H. Trask is the Metho-
dist pastor and the Rev. Elisha A.
Keep the Congregationalist.

The two hotels are the fine Con-
way House, and the Pequawket
House. There is a pure water sup-
ply from a spring at the base of Moat
mountain.

There is an Odd Fellows lodge and
one of the Independent Order of Red
Men, also an excellent, progressive,
and enterprising Woman's Club.

THE TOWN OF CONWAY

There are three physicians, Sam-
uel X. Greenlaw, Benjamin F.
Home, and C. P. Buzzell. John C.
L. Wood, Esq., is the Conway law-
yer, a painstaking and reliable prac-
titioner.

Conway Centre is a pleasant, little
place and prosperous from its prox-
imity to the Redstone quarries and

■

by Lieut. Barnet Walker. There
has been a tavern here for about a
hundred years. Here, too, is the old
Ebenezer Burbank stand where that
sturdy pioneer "kept tavern " after his
marriage to fair Fanny Stark, a near
relative of Gen. John Stark. The
beautiful " Odell place," once the
home of Joel Eastman, is now owned
by his nephew, Joel
Eastman Morrill, the
father of a strikingly
handsome and intellect-
ual family. His three
| daughters and a son
have all received a col-
legiate education. Mr.

. . -..._ e

«•>-— _-■>'; -*-/

Wasringtor., Adams, and toe Cen-
tre Notch, from the Sum-
mit of Kearsarge.

H. B. Cotton's mills
on the Walker's pond
water-privilege. Mr.
Cotton manufactures
boxes, employing quite
a number of men and
deals to quite an ex-
tent in flour and grain.
He is one of the leading men of the
town and has served very- acceptably
in the state legislature.

The town-house is located at the
Centre, near where was once the inn
of Joshua Heath, and there is a neat
chapel in which the Methodist min-
ister from Conway Corner preaches
Sunday afternoons. The Centre
House is an old house of entertain-
ment, a part of the building having
been the first framed house occupied

- ~Cy ,

■£?<'■'

e up Kearsarge — Moat Mountain and the Ledges,
from the Prospect Ledge.

Morrill is an advanced and model
practical farmer, and all movements
to advance the well-being of the town
and state are sure of his intelligent
advocacy and assistance.

The Centre lawyer, John B. Nash,
Esq., has made himself widely known.
He has served a term in the state
legislature as representative in 1894,
and In the same year was the Demo-
cratic candidate for congress from this
district.

372

THE TOWN OF CONWAY

In the old days the ties of neigh-
borhood and fraternal feeling united
the different parts of the town very
closely, as has been seen ; but in
later times, after North Conway had
become the . great summer resort of
the east side, diversity of business
interests tended to isolation, and in
1S91 an unsuccessful attempt was
made to induce the New Hampshire
legislature to set off the North Con-
way neighborhood and incorporate it
into a town 'by itself.

The schools of Conway have not
"kept pace in improvement with her
other interests. Those at Conway
village are probably the best, and
those of North Conway the poorest,
but on the whole, for this day and
generation, they are deplorably inade-
quate. The late ex-Senator Patter-
son, then state superintendent of the
public schools of New Hampshire,
told the writer more than a dozen
years ago, that the schools of Con-
way were a hundred years behind
those of other parts of the state ; and
there has been no signal improvement
in the last score of years. The rule
is generally a new teacher for every
term, that method so fatal to progress
for the pupils. The present school
board is an able one, and will do all
they may to improve the present state
of the schools. Its members are Mrs.
Abbie M. D. Blouin, the Rev. Elisha
A. Keep, and the Rev. William B.
Allis.

Half way on the line or road be-
tween North Conway and Conway
Centre is the little settlement of Red-
stone, its romantic situation lending
a picturesque look ; to the east and
towering above it, is Rattlesnake
mountain, on the gashed sides of
which is the quarry whose fine red-

tinted stone gives the little village
and the quarry itself, its name. It
is a wild, romantic-looking height,
and always reminds the writer of
Drachenfels on the Rhine, from whose
Dombrnch, or cathedral quarry, was
taken the granite to build the Cologne
cathedral.

Redstone quarry is owned and oper-
ated by the Maine and New Hamp-
shire Granite Company, of which Ara
Cusliman, Esq., is president, and the
Hon. Payson Tucker, treasurer; Mr.
George A. Wagg of North Con-
way is the general agent. It is an
important industry, and Redstone
granite is sent all over the country.
The names of the buildings made
from it since the quarry was first
opened in 1SS6 would make a long
list. The Union railway station in
Portland, the new Union station in
Boston, the New Hampshire State
Library building in Concord, the
Woman's Christian Temperance Un-
ion Temple in Chicago, and some of
the finest business blocks in New Eng-
land and of the West, are among
them. Besides the building stone,
nearly two millions of paving blocks
are made here annually, the greater
part of them being sent to New York
city. A green variety of granite of
the best quality and apparently inex-
haustible (as the red is thought to be)
is also quarried here.

From North Conway to Intervale,
from Intervale to Kearsarge village,
down the long stretch of Kearsarge
road and then back to North Con-
way, forms a charming drive of four
miles, popularly known as ' 'Around
the Square," though the sides of the
" square" would not exactly conform
to the geometrical requirement that
these should be of equal length.

THE TOWN OF CONWAY

373

At Intervale is the beautiful sum-
mer cottage colony, the home during
six months of the year of a number of
distinguished men and their families,
among whom may be mentioned Dr.
James Schouler, the eminent histo-
rian and jurist, the Rev. George B.
Currie, D. D., the Rev. Daniel Mer-
riman, D. D., Melancthon . M, Hurd,
formerly of the publishing firm of
Hurd & Houghton, the Rev. Harry
Nichols,, and W. Eliot Fettee, Esq.,
and the Rev. Dr. John
Worcester, and James H.
Gamble, Esq.

At Kearsarge, too, a
summer cottage contingent
is growing up. Capt. S. H.
Newman and Prof. James
Wallace have pleasant
places on the Kearsarge
4 'Sunset Hill," and Mr.
George E. Carter is just
completing a handsome
house there. Mr. Fred I.
Pratt has a fine house
close to the Ridge hotel,
and Mr. F. S. Boyse a
cosy house with wide
grounds and pretty pine trees, in a
pleasant field by itself.

These times are a great contrast to
the days away back in the forties,
when Edwin Merrill took artists to
board for two dollars per week, but
he led the way in making Kearsarge
village what it is to-day.

And it has been said that the south
end of North Conway village, that
was getting to look a little decayed,
for all its stately trees and magnifi-
cent outlook, seems once more the
" court end," from the neighborhood
of beautiful "Birehmont," and the

The farming districts of the town
are becoming popular for summer res-
idence. At Walker's pond, South
Conway, Mr. and Mrs. Joseph A.
Nesmith, of Lowell, have a lovely
place, and Mrs. Greenhalge has just
purchased a farm there. The late
Governor Greenhalge was fond of
that neighborhood and intended to
build a summer house there this year,
if he had lived.

Walker's pond is a wonderfully

Glimpse c' an East Side White Mountain Coaching Parade.

lovely sheet of water. It is three
miles long, has an area of nearly two
square miles, and contains four small
islands. Starr King declared the
view from it more fascinating than
any other along the south-eastern

stimulus it has given to
provement " feeling there.

village im-

avenue to the mountains. He says:
"The Rattlesnake range, one of the
guardian walls of North Conway,
stretches off to the right, overtopped
by the feminine beauty of the slopes
of Kearsarge. To the left are ' The
Ledges ' and the neighboring heights.
A little below these, and on nearly
the same line, rise Moat and Cho-
corua, towering over intervening hills.
And in the centre, the White Moun-

■4

THE TOWN OF CONWAY.

tains, back of all, have theii bulk
crowned by the dome of Mount Wash-
ington."

It is not pleasant to refer to an oc-
currence in the history of Conway, in
which Conway people take the great-
est pleasure and pride — not pleasant
because another town in the state
claims that the honor paid to Conway
was meant for this other town.

But the writer would be unfaithful,
if she failed to tell how that the Union
war ship Kearsarge that sunk the
rebel ship Alabama, was named after
the Carroll county Mount Kearsarge ;
and how that even' one in town was
very proud of this, and agreed more
perfectly than before with Mr. G. V.
Fox, assistant secretary of the navy
under President Lincoln, in his opin-
ion that, "Taking everything into
consideration, it is unquestionably the
finest mountain in New Hampshire,"
and how when there was an attempt
made to change the name of the
mountain from " Kearsarge " to " Pe-
quawket," a petition was sent to the
Honorable Senate and House of
Representatives of New Hampshire,
signed by the late Judge Joel East-
man, of Conway, and all the best
known men of Carroll county, asking
that the proposed change of name be
not sanctioned ; and how that a pas-
sage in the petition read :

"There is no one in our region
who has asked for a change of the
name Kearsarge, endeared to us by
the associations of three generations
and rendered memorable by the illus-
trious success of the United States
steamer named after it, over the rebel
cruiser Alabama, in 1S64."

And then it seems that a member
from Merrimack count)' arose and
said that the war ship was not named

for the Carroll county mountain, but
was named for the mountain in
the member's count}', Merrimack !
Thereupon (in 1876) Judge Lory
Odell, of Portsmouth, wrote to the
Plon. Gideon Welles, ex-secretary of
the navy, to the effect that upon the
occasion of the presentation to the
general court of New Hampshire of
a remonstrance by the people of the
count}' of Carroll against any recog-
nition of an attempt then being made
to change the name of their Kear-
sarge mountain to Pequawket, the
claim that the mountain provided a
name for the sloop-of-war Kearsarge,
was disputed by a member from Mer-
rimack county, who asserted that it
was not named from the mountain in
the county of Carroll, near North
Conway, but from that in the county
of Merrimack, west of Concord.

Judge Odell informed Mr. Welles
that the authority for the latter state-
ment was said to be a letter of his,
and he appealed to him for his deci-
sion in the matter in the following
language: "The inhabitants of the
towns adjacent to the county of Car-
roll Kearsarge, recognize that the sec-
retary- of the navy, who was required
by law to name the vessels of war, is
the only person whose decision and
statements cannot be controverted."

The ex-secretary of the navy, in
his reply, wrote : ' ' Mrs. Fox, the wife
of the assistant secretary, and daugh-
ter of Hon. Levi Woodbury, knew,
what I did not, that there were two
mountains bearing the name of ' Kear-
sarge,' and as she states the Carroll
mountain was the one in view I think
it entitled to the paternity.
Only Mr. Fox and his wife were con-
sulted in the matter, and she, familiar
with Xew Hampshire mountains and

AMONG THE HILLS.

375

scenery, is entitled to the honor and
credit of deciding the question."

The Hon. Ithiel E. Clay, of Chat-
ham, was very indignant at the as-
sumption of the member from Merri-
mack count}'. Mr. Clay owns the
greater part of the Carroll county
Mount Kearsarge, and his other land
possessions are so extensive that it is
said one may ride thirteen miles on
his domain, all the time going on-
ward. Naturally he takes the great-
est interest in the history of the re-
gion, and no one is better versed in
it than he. He wrote as follows :

"In the autumn of 1S76 I met G.
V. Fox, who was assistant secretary
of the navy during Abraham Lin-
coln's administration, at the Kear-
sarge House, North Conway, and in
a conversation in regard to which
mountain the war steamer Kearsarge
— that sunk the Alabama — was named
for, he said positively for the Chat-
ham mountain, and gave the circum-
stances or reason why it had that
name, which was as follows : He said
when he was quite a small boy his
father took him to North Conway,
and after staying there several days
they went to the top of Kearsarge, it

being the first mountain that he was
ever on, and that the scenery from
the top made an impression on him
that lasted through his life. During
the war there were built three steam-
ers, and he well remembered that the
right to name them was with the sec-
retary of the navy, who delegated
that right to Mrs. Lincoln, wife of
the president, Mrs. G. V. Fox, and
another lad}' whose name he had for-
gotten, and that the latter suggested
to his wife to call it Kearsarge, which
she did, and she had in view the
mountain in Chatham and Bartlett
and no other."

The assertion of the ex-secretary
of the navy who alone had the risrht
to name the war vessel, coupled with
the statement of Assistant Secretary
Fox, to that of Mr. Clay, of Chat-
ham, is believed in Conway to be con-
clusive as to the right of Carroll
county Mount Kearsarge to lay claim
to the honor of having had the his-
toric war vessel named after it.

The statements of the Hon. Gideon
Welles, and of G. V. Fox, Esq., his
assistant secretary, are to be seen in
the records of the Appalachian Moun-
tain Club.

AMONG THE HILLS.
By George Bancroft GriffitJi.

The springtide's flood of glory brings me here

'Midst Nature's bridal bloom to pause awhile ;
In shadowy aisles, by rock-rimmed pools so clear,

Or nooks bird-haunted, to the poet dear,
To rest and dream, forget the world, and smile ! ■
Here, where the half-veiled peak of Moat is seen,

The Giant's Stairs, the swift and foamy fall,
Mine eyes to feast, while sprays of living green

Touch and caress, and God is over all !

^l^l^i&j. ._-::.:

The Oid French W<

THE LAND OF EYANGEEINE.
By Helen E. Phillips.

^iLOUDLESS, azure
sky; quiet, dreamy
ripples on the dis-
tant basin ; sleepy,
hazy solitude over
the time -honored
dikes, that so
faithfully served to keep in safety the
happy homes of the Acadian peas-
antry. So appears the fair country
of Evangeline on any summer day.
The very locomotive is imbued with
the peace of the scene, and ushers its
load of eager passengers into the little
station, with a plaintive wail, which
seems to be the echo of a distant past,
rather than the bustling herald of our
nineteenth century customs.

Leaving the dusty train with its
suggestions of timetables and bag-
gage-checks, we walk through the
little village of Wolfville, past its
busy stores, white churches, and pre-
tentious academy, straight up the hill
into the sunset. As we stand there
in the rosy glow and watch the shad-
ows come creeping over the land from
the eastward, we make haste to dis-
cover tangible objects, that we may
afterwards locate, lest with the falling
darkness all should disappear and
leave but the memory as of a beauti-
ful dream.

To the left, far, far away, the Bay
of Fundy, mingles with the gray hills
beyond, and over its broad expanse

"Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced
ocean speaks."

Farther to the south but near at
hand rises Blomidon, stately, majes-
tic, its crown just kissed by the rays
of the departing sun, the lazy ripples
fawning at its feet, craving the pro-
tection of so mighty a monster. To
the eastward are the low, flat meadows
with their border of foot-hills, and at
our very feet, its waters making gen-
tle inroads upon the soil, the Basin of
Minas, doing its homage to the fair-
est and quaintest of all the land, the
onetime Acadian village, Grand Pre.

Down the valley of the Gaspereau,
in the bright morning light, the drive
is a delightful one ; for three miles
the road winds over the ridge, down
into the valley and up again on the
other side, at each turn bringing into
view clusters of tidy farm-houses, and
goodly acres well tilled. At last we
leave the river to find its way to the
ocean, alone, and turning to the right
and to the left come directly into the
little village, this new Grand Pre,
which is builded on the site of the
ruined homes of the Acadian peasants.
Here and there, on the outskirts, peeps

THE LAND OF EVANGELINE.

377

out a gabled roof with its dormer win-
dows, and at the doors as we pass,

"Matrons and maidens sit in snow-white caps
and in kirtles,
Scarlet and blue and green."'

On a little eminence in the midst
of the village, looking down with
venerable pity on its modern usurper,
stands an old church, now long past
use, its weather-beaten sides and
broken panes mournfully testifying
to its age; so pathetic it seems,
standing alone with its sentinel of
yew trees, keeping guard over the
dead of past generations, one might
fancy that it had escaped the fury
of the English invaders, and could
it speak might unfold wondrous tales
to listening ears ; so quaint and old
is it that here Evangeline might
have worshipped and sung the hymns
of her people, as when,

" On Sunday morn, while the bell from its tur-
ret

Sprinkled with holy sounds the air, as the
priest with his hyssop

Sprinkles the congregation and scatters bless-
ings upon them,

Down the long street she passed, with her
chaplet of beads and her missal."

Turning toward the sea, a short
walk from the village brings us to

the row of willows near the old
French well, so designated among
the villagers. Sturdily these patri-
archs have withstood the turbulent
waters, as at flood tides the gates of
the dikes have opened to receive
them ; valiantly have they held their
ground in later years and withstood
the encroachments of time, and now
they are proudly pointed out by the
pleasant-voiced farmer as the site of
the forge of Basil, the blacksmith,
and perhaps they are, who shall say?
Here could we imagine Gabriel and
Evangeline as

" There at the door they stood, with wondering

eyes to behold him
Take in his leathern lap the hoof of the horse

as a plaything,
^sailing the shoe in its place ; while near him

the tire of the cart-wheel
Lay like a fiery snake, coiled round in a circle

of cinders."

Too beautiful is the country and
too content, to have its peace dis-
turbed by the frenzied demand for
fact of our eager life, so unquestion-
ing we turn from our all too brief
stay, and leave the solemn old wil-
lows, the placid bay, and over all,
well guarding his many charges,
stately Blomidon.

— - 1

-ti£%Si

ifa .

■

si " -%►*-»•

Tne OiO Zrv.

ANXIS GAGE MARSHALL.
By Col. Wm. H. St in son.

AXXIS GAGE MARSHALL is town was subsequently her home

a woman of more than ordi- until after Mr. Marshall's decease in

nary note and ability. She September, 1S91.
was a daughter of Solomon and Of an active temperament, and gift-

Anm's Gage Marshall.

Dolly (Chase) Gage, born at the old
farm home in Bedford, August 1,
1S32. She received her education in
the district school and the institutes
in Nashua and at Reed's Ferry, and
was for some time successfully en-
gaged in teaching, until her mar-
riage, January 23, 1853, with Enoch
P. Marshall of Dunbarton, which

cd with strong mental powers, Mrs.
Marshall realized most fully the social
and intellectual limitations of life in
our farming communities, especially
so far as woman is concerned, and
when the Grange movement began to
be developed in the state she was
among the first to realize its impor-
tance, and the advantages which it

/ GLIDE ADOWN THE FLASHING STREAM.

379

offered her sex in common with the
other. She became a charter mem-
ber of Stark Grange No. 42 of Dun-
barton, organized in 1S74. and was a
devoted member of that organization
and of the order at large, serving
most efficiently for seven years al-
together as lecturer, and occupying
other official positions.

An earnest and eloquent speaker,
and gifted also with poetic talent of
no mean order, she has often been
heard effectively in Grange gather-
ings, public and private, as well as at
general agricultural meetings, under
the auspices of the State Board of
Agriculture and otherwise, in ad-
dresses and poems. The cause of
temperance has ever found in her an
ardent friend and champion ; and at
all proper times and occasions she
has spoken freely and forcibly in its

interest, though never neglecting,
even in the slightest degree, the para-
mount duty of wife and mother.

Mrs. Marshall was a member of the
Baptist church while residing in Dun-
barton, and an active leader and effi-
cient worker for ever}- good cause
arid object in which the church was
interested.

In 1S92, after her husband's de-
cease, she removed to the beautiful
village of Milford, where, in a cosy
cottage with attractive surroundings
ami a beautiful outlook, her home is
ncKv established, in companionship
with her daughter Jessie, a teacher
in the Milford schools. Eydia,
another daughter, for a time en-
gaged in departmental work in Wash-
ington, is now a teacher in that city,
while Bertha, the third, is the wife of
L. O. Goodhue of Bow.

I GLIDE ADOWN THE FLASHING STREAM.

A CHARADE.

By Edward A. jFe/iks.

I glide adown the flashing stream

Serenely in my First ;
I trail my lines for yellow bream,

Of fish nor best nor worst ;
And when I of Sahara dream,

I quench my dreamy thirst.

When ever\- breezy summer dell

Is full of frozen dreams,
I sometimes deem it passing well

To mass the sun's warm beams, —
And in a corner of my ceil

Ah ! how my Second gleams !

The axis of the spinning; earth

Extends from pole to pole,
And has since morning Iiad its birth ;

Withdraw it, and a hale
Of mighty length and breadth and girth

Will need mv strengthening Whole.

?:■

iff

A TYPICAL NEW ENGLAND FARMER.

By H. H. Metcalf.

T has been asserted that, within a
radius of twenty miles, about the
base of Kearsarge mountain,
there have been born and reared a
greater number of men of national
prominence than in any other section
of equal extent in America. It is a
rugged section,, so far as its physical
aspect is concerned, and strong men
have gone out from its limits to make
deep and lasting impress upon the
national life and character. Men,
too, of sterling worth have remained
to pursue the avocation of their
fathers, promote the welfare of their
communities, and maintain the honor
and dignity of the state.

There is no better type of Ameri-
can citizenship than that embodied in
the intelligent and successful farmers
of our New England hill towns, a
worthy representative of whom is
found in the person of John M. Carr
of Wilmot, proprietor of Cass-Carr
farm on the westerly slope of Kear-
sarge mountain in that town.

This farm was settled by Benjamin
Cass, who, with William' Morey, was
among the first to locate in what was
then known as '' Kearsarge Gore,"
the upper portion of which, with the
northerly part of New London, was
incorporated as the town of Wilmot
in June, 1807. Kearsarge Gore was
lotted in 1779, and Benjamin Cass
must have located there soon after.
He was a brother of Maj. Jonathan
Cass of Exeter, who was the father of

Lewis Cass and a soldier of the Rev-
olution, enlisting the day after the
Battle of Lexington. He was born
March 27, 1752, and married Abigail
Bartlett in June, 17S4, bringing her
to his home over the old ' c Salisbury
trail," which led around the slope of
the mountain from the town of Salis-
bury.

Mr. Cass was a blacksmith as well
as a farmer, and did a prosperous
business at the trade in a shop whose
site is still indicated. That he was
a prominent citizen and active in
public affairs is manifest from the
fact that he was one of the two men
named in the legislative act of incor-
poration as authorized to call the first
town meeting in Wilmot. From the
old family Bible it appears that Ben-
jamin and Abigail (Bartlett) Cass
had children as follows: Abigail,
bom July 19, 1785; Elizabeth,
December 28, 1790; Gershom Bart-
lett, November 4, 1792; Mary,
March 2, 1805. After his first wife's
death he married Molly Dole, Sep-
tember 25, 1817. He died March n,
1 83 1, and she survived him several
years. The son, Gershom Bartlett
Cass, was a soldier of the War of
181 2, being the first man in Wilmot
to respond to the call for troops,
though but twenty years of age. He
received a lieutenant's commission
and served throughout the war.

The first home of Benjamin Cass
was a rude cabin of the primitive

3§2

A TYPICAL NEW. ENGLAND FARMER

order. He subsequently erected a
frame dwelling, which forms the cen-
tral part of what is now known as the
"old house," in the left of the ac-
companying picture. The son built
a new house, near that of his father,
and there brought his wife, Phebe
Dole, a daughter of his step-mother.
Elizabeth, the second daughter, mar-
ried Nathaniel Carr, and the}' settled
on a part of the Cass farm, near
the road leading from the old Salis-
bury trail to the site of the present
Winslpw House. Here Nathaniel
Carr died, leaving two children —
Joseph Brown and Sally. The widow
subsequently married a Harriman,
and removed to New London; but
upon her death, not long after, the
Carr children returned to the Cass
homestead.

Joseph B. Carr married Mehitable
Cilley and lived in the Benjamin Cass
house. He became an influential
citizen, was conspicuous in town af-
fairs, and was made a colonel of the
state militia in 1846. He had one
son, John Moore Carr, born October
30, 1S36, who, on attaining manhood,
decided to remain upon the old farm
which had come into his father's pos-
session. He repaired and refitted
the house which his great uncle,
Gershom Bartlett Cass, had erected,
and there brought his wife, Rhoda E.
Haskins, to whom he was married
January 3, 1858.

The Cass-Carr farm, comprising
the first lot conveyed to Benjamin
Cass, being "lot No. 16, originally
drawn to the right of Theodore
Atchinson," and subsequent large
accessions, includes about 1,000 acres
of land, of which a large portion is
wood and pasture. It has been oper-
ated by Mr. Carr in the ordinary

course of New England mixed farm-
ing, with special attention to partic-
ular lines of production at different
times. Potato culture was once a
leading feature, when 3,000 bushels
per annum were produced. Sheep
husbandry was for a time largely en-
gaged in, when about 250 sheep
throve on the place. Cattle were also
reared for the market to some extent ;
but of late milk production is the
leading feature, about twenty-five
cows being kept for this purpose.

A spacious barn, 150 feet in length,
gives storage for the 150 tons of hay-
cut on the place, while some 400
bushels of grain are also produced.
There is also a silo of about seventy-
five tons capacity.

Like his father, Mr. Carr has been
a leading citizen of the town, giving
his time and service freely to pro-
mote its interests. He has served up-
on the board of selectmen, as super-
visor for several years, and is now
serving his third term as a member of
the school committee. In 18S1 he
represented the town in the legislat-
ure, being the first Republican chosen
in that strongly Democratic town.

He has been an interested member
of the order, Patrons of Husbandry,
for man}- years, having joined Kear-
sarge Grange, No. 87, at its reorgan-
ization in November, 1878. He
served five years as master and two
years as lecturer of this grange ; is
a working member of Merrimack
County Pomona Grange ; has served
two years as a district deputy of the
state grange, and has been twice
elected a member of the executive
committee of the latter organization,
holding this position at the present
time. He has been connected with
various agricultural organizations and

ONE MORNING.

383

is now a vice-president of the Merri-
mack County Gransre Fair Associa-
tion and president of the local section
of the New England Milk Producers'
Union. He has been for ^ years a
member of the Masonic fraternity.

Mr. Carr's son and only child,
Joseph Bert rand Carr, a young man
of much promise, died from con-
sumption at the early age of 24,
October 14, 1883, eight months after
his marriage with Luvia M. Collins
of Wilmot. Six mouths later his
wife died, and his son's widow, the
younger Mrs. Carr, has remained at
the head of the household — the guid-
ing spirit of a true Xew England
country home, taking an interest in
all that pertains to the success of the

farm work and in the social and edu-
cational welfare of the community in
which Mr. Carr himself is so deeply
concerned.

Xo man in any community is more
thoroughly respected by his fellow-
citizens, of all shades of opinion and
belief, than is John M. Carr of Wil-
mot. The widow and the fatherless
seek his counsel and aid, and his
neighbors and townsmen rely upon
his judgment in all matters of busi-
ness where the advice of others is
considered desirable.

Such men are the strong pillars of
our rural Xew England communities,
and their sterling character contrib-
utes in large degree to the stability of
our institutions.

OXE MORXIXG.
By Virginia B~ Ladd.

The wonderful book of the seasons

Is open again at June,
A bird, on the high, swinging elm bough,

Is singing a jubilant tune.

The elm seeds are falling like snow-flakes
As the branches respond to the breeze,

And a shower in the night lias brought freshness
Alike to the flowers and the trees.

The emerald tint of the lawn grass

Has changed to a deeper hue,
Far above, a white cloud mass is sweeping

Across a pure surface of blue.

The whole world is vibrant with music,
All the summer's still life speaks to-day

In a joyous, unsyllabled language,
A gladness no words can convey.

Much too fine for our dull ears to hear it
We can still feel the eloquent tune,

So we join with our hearts in the rapture
And know we are glad it is June.

REVENGE IS SWEET.

By Edwin Osgood Grover.

ISS STANTON was truly for-
lorn . ' ' What ever made me
come back to this deserted
place," she said despairingly as she
sat by her open window and looked
out across the lawn of the Intervale
House to the flush meadows and the
proud mountains beyond.

"I've half a mind to compel
Mamma to pack our trunks to-morrow
and go to Nantucket or Buzzard's
Bay. Ten to one Harry learned that
I was here and has gone to the beach
simply to avoid me. He knows how
I hate the glare of the sand and the
salt water."

"I wonder who could have told
him that we were here," she said
thoughtfully. " It must have been
Miss Van Wildt."

"Mamma ! " she called, " are you
quite certain that you overheard Miss
Van Wildt say that Harry Osmond
was to spend the season here ? ' '

"Oh, I'm very positive, Alice.
You remember it was at Mrs. Ben-
son-Smyth's Easter ball and we had
planned to summer at the Adiron-
dacks."

"Then why doesn't he come?
Here it is the first of August and
Harry always came before by the
middle of July."

With an audible sigh of disappoint-
ment Miss Stanton took up her novel
and pretended to be reading though
it was evident that she was much
more interested in the love affairs of

Miss Stanton than of a thousand
"Old Maids." Just now they were
causing her not a little concern for
there was not a single vounsr man
among the score or more already at
the mountains that interested her in
the least. In fact she had returned
to North Conway instead of going
to the Adirondacks solely to have an
opportunity to win back her whilom
lover, Harry Osmond. That had
been her last engagement and after a
winter without a proposal Miss Stan-
ton had become alarmed for her life —
the married one I mean — and fallen
back with a sort of adoring despair
upon the neck of her lover of last sea-
son. She recalled the many little
' ' accidents ' ' which had led up
through a jolly summer to their
happy engagement, how she was the
open envy of the other girls. Then
came that dreadful Miss Van Wildt
and the affair at the coaching parade
ball which was wholly inexpiable in
her jealous eyes and when a few days
later lie had mentioned a wedding at
some distant date she had sternly
answered "Never!" and coldly re-
turned his engagement ring and
trinkets. "Poor Harry- did take it
desperately hard," she confessed half
aloud. "And I guess I was too hard
on him, though he deserved it every
bit. Yet I know I could make him
love me again if he would only give
me an opportunity."

Then she went back to her preten-

REVENGE IS SWEET.

3S;

sions at reading, laughing lightly at
the stupidity of the "Old Maid" at
not managing her love affairs more
shrewdly.

"Alice!" called her mother at
last, "who is that young gentleman
on the box ? I do n't find my glasses."

Miss Stanton glanced carelessly out
of the window at the gay tally-ho
that came rolling swiftly up to the
front piazza, loaded with "new arri-
vals" from the evening train.

"Oh, its Mr. Osmond, Mamma!"
she exclaimed, so delighted that her
mother gave a warning " Hush ! "

Miss Stanton was full of ecstasies.
" I knew he would come ! " she cried
confidently. " Xow Harry Osmond
beware," she thought to herself as
she went to dress for dinner. Even
Miss Van Wildt would have had to
confess that she was charming as she
entered the dining-hall that evening
wearing her most dashing gown and
winning smile and carrying an im-
mense bunch of sweet peas which, by
the way, were Mr. Osmond's favorite
flowers.

Early in the evening while prom-
enading with her mother she met
Harry Osmond with a pleasant smile.

" I am delighted to see Mr. Os-
mond," she said. "We all had be-
gun to fear that you had quite de-
serted us."

"It was not intentional I assure
you. Miss Stanton. A foolish fellow
took it into his head to have a mid-
summer wedding and as I had a
chance acquaintance I felt obliged to
stay in town till the event was over.''

"It was awfully good of you to
stay, but a little unkind of him, don't
you think, to set such an unreason-
able day and torture his friends with
August heat ? "

" Possibly, Miss Stanton, but he
only asked a very few to remain. It
was a very quiet affair. On the
whole I am rather glad I stayed for I
fear it would not have gone smoothly
without me."

"'Nothing does," said Miss Stan-
ton with a smile that would have won
an. Indian's heart.

"Thank you, Miss Stanton. Shall
we promenade a few moments ? ' '

"With pleasure," she- answered.
"Mamma," she added, "I'm afraid
the evening air will be too cool.
Shan't I arrange a chair in the parlor
for you? "

~The air is chilly, Alice, but I wont
trouble you. I '11 go in and finish
'Trilby.' Do you know, Mr. Os-
maoud, I 'm so fascinated by that
charming creature that I 'm reading
the book for the fourteenth time ? ' '

"Good-night, Mamma," said Miss
Stanton, turning to Harry Osmond
witdli a smile that made him forget to
answer her mother.

After a few moments' walk on the
ligMed piazzas they became uncom-
fortably crowded and Miss Stanton
suggested that they cross to the sum-
mer house, and Mr. Osmond said he
wouM be very happy there ; so they
went.

"You don't know how pleasant it
seerjiks, Harry, to find you just as of
old/' she said confidingly as soon as
they were alone. " I feared you
migfcit think I ought to wait for an
introduction after our little bataille
dcs c&curs of last season. But it isn't
necessary that one sign a treaty of
peace after every foolish love quarrel,
do you think so, Harry? "

" Well, that depends whether they
interred to continue hostilities or not.
Still treaties are frangible as well as

3 86

REVENGE IS SHEET.

hearts and other playthings," said
Mr. Osmond, thoughtfully.

" I suppose so," sighed Miss Stan-
ton, "but I'm not a connoisseur on
war and international relations. I
wish I were though," she said, long-
ingly.

" May I ask why, Alice? Did you
want to make a treaty with some one ? "

"O Harry ! " she cried, bursting
into a little flood of tears that was
quickly dried under his affectionate
caresses, "how did you know I
have been utterly miserable without
you all winter?" she sobbed, "and
that I have been waiting here three
whole weeks just for you to come? "

"Why, you told me," he said,
laughingly, so that she looked at
him in surprise through her tears.

"I? It was that Miss Van Wildt,
you mean."

" Pardon me, Alice, but I did not
know it till to-night. I see you are
still a bit jealous over my attentions
to her last coaching parade day."

"I, jealous? Why, Harry, how
could you think such a thing? But,
then, I had cause enough, the idea of
your dancing twice with her when
you had been engaged to me for
three weeks ! ' '

" I suppose it was a criminal of-
fence, Alice, but you know she is
Jack's cousin, and a fellow has to
sacrifice something to a chum's rela-
tive. It was only courtesy to Jack."

"But you were so sensitive when
I accused you of it next day. Why,
you just made me break our engage-
ment," she said apologetically.

"Well, who wouldn't have been
sensitive when you told him that you
had no further use for a fickle sum-
mer dude. Then you said "

" But you called me a flighty sum-

mer girl, you know you did, and
without the slightest provocation, for
I had n't danced with a soul except
you all summer?" Miss Stanton ex-
claimed through fresh tears.

'Well, well, Alice ! where is your
treaty now? We shall be at war
again if we don't sign it soon."

" That is just like you, Harry, so
forgiving and thoughtful ! " she said,
drying her tears. " May we make
all up again, and forget our quarrel?
Be as much to each other as if it
never had happened ? ' '

" Yes, certainly, if you wish it ! "

"Then, there is the treaty of
peace!" she said, extending her
hand, which Harry raised silently to
his lips.

" Do you know, Harry, I think
our engagement last year was too
long, don't you? "

"I'm not sure but it was," he said,
half doubtfully. " I have come to
believe in short engagements, in fact,
they are the only thing this season."

"Oh, I'm so glad!" and Miss
Stanton looked at him in that fond
way she had done when he proposed
last season. "Then we can have
our's announced before coaching
parade day," she said earnestly, see-
ing a means of escape from last year's
misfortune, " and be married during
the winter holidays!" she added,
clapping her tiny hands in unre-
strained happiness.

"And where shall we go for the
wedding tour?" asked Harry Os-
mond, with apparent interest.

"Oh, we'll only run to Pasadena
or St. Augustine for a few weeks, you
know we planned last fall to go di-
rectly to London and Paris, but I
think it will be pleasanter to wait till
spring, do n't you ? "

REVENGE IS SWEET.

3S7

"I certainly do! The ocean trip
will be beastly in winter."

"And, Harry ! I know the cosiest
place on Huntington avenue' that,
will just suit us, I know it will. Oh,
this is worth the whole winter of
waiting. What are you thinking of,
Ham-?"

" Oh, I was only thinking, Alice,
how downright hard hearted you
were when you jilted me last fall."

"Don't let's think 01 it, Harry!
We ve signed a treaty of peace, you
know."

"Yes, but do you remember how
you said you hoped never to see me
again and went off in a huff ? "

"I'm afraid I do!" she acknowl-
edged, "sadly.

"And how you threw my photo on
the table and told me ' '

"There, Harry, if I didn't know
you were trying to torment me I
should say you were horrid to remind
me of all those things. But you said
a hundred things a hundred times
worse, you know you did. But I 'd
a good deal rather talk about my
trousseau and our wedding trip.
Come, you 've got to talk about them
if you don't want to. What are your
favorite colors in silks, Harry-? "

" Pink and electric blue," he said,
thoughtfully.

"And your flowers? Sweet peas,
I know," and she transferred a sprig
from her bouquet to his button hole.

"And when may I tell mamma ? "

"As soon as you wish ; to-night, if
you choose."

"You are so kind, Harry, I wish
I hadn't sent her away."

" It may be as well in the end," he
explained.

"Perhaps so, mammas can't un-
derstand love gossip. Do you think

it would be too soon to have our an-
nouncement out the last of the month?"

"Why, no, but you can decide
that later."

"I didn't know you could be so
good, Harry. What if you hadn't
come back this year?" and she
seized his hand, sighing at the
possibility that was past.

" But I fear there may possibly be
a misunderstanding, Miss Stanton,"
said Mr. Osmond, withdrawing his
harad and rising, coldly. He stood a
mo-ment looking down at the startled
girl who had refused his hand the
year before and near broken his heart
in the process. Now was the time
for his revenge.

" What is the trouble, Harry ? " she
cried. "Are you ill? "

" I am perfectly well, thank you.
But did you think — er — well, possi-
bly you thought we were engaged ? "

"Arn't we, Harry ? " she asked,
wirJh a last appealing look. But
Harry Osmond's heart was hardened.

tB I was not aware of it, / certainly
have not proposed."

"But didn't you say we could
make up again and forget our quar-
rel ? You certainly did, Mr. Os-
mond ! " she said, decidedly, her
anger rising.

vii I certainly did," repeated Mr.
Osmond, calmly. "But forgetting a
quarrel does not make us lovers
again, does it, Miss Stanton? "

She stood a moment abashed.
"A_nd so you have been deceiving
me all the evening, have you, Mr.
Osmond, with your false pretensions
of love ? I am not in the least sur-
prised in you ! " she said, with bitter
sarcasm.

"Thank you, Miss Stanton! I am
very sorry not to surprise you. Shall

3 SS

LEGEND OE JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE.

I escort you to the parlors? My
wife will think I have deserted her
already and we have only been mar-
ried • three days. You may like to
meet in her your old friend, Miss
Van Wildt. But as I have kept you
waiting for three weeks I won't de-
tain you long."

* The evening air is becoming very
chilly, Mr. Osmond, and I think I '11
go to my room. I wish you good-
night! "

"Good-night! "

And Harry Osmond went to tell
his wife of the unexpected sweetness
of his revenge.

ASPIRATION.
By Fletcher Harper Swift.

I saw a fountain leap up to the sky,

A thousand times I saw it leap and fall :

Each time it fell, it sank with piteous cry,

Then sprang again up toward the shining wall.

I saw a rose-bud, near a cottage door,

Unfold to heaven its wealth of petals round,

It burst in striving to unfold them more,

And shed its perished beaunty o'er the ground.

I saw a flame creep toward its father Sun,
I saw it climbing, climbing- toward its goal,

I saw it smoulder where it was begun,

I closed my eyes and wept,, — " My Soul, — My Soul.

THE LEGEND OF JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE.

[continued.]
By E. P. Tenney.
CHAPTER XXV.

I^HAT dark winter morning at
Glasse Head was brightened by
the incoming of a guest very
welcome to Mary. Although her
persistency in deferring her marriage
with John Levin had borne fruit in
quieting that warning spirit which
had sometimes startled her, she had
in place of it an incubus quite as
dreadful to her as ghostly visitation,

since Mary, by subtle sympathy, car-
ried upon her own heart all of John
Levin's misdeeds, as if they had been
her own. And it was too hard for
her. She was growing old apace,
swiftly spanning the years between
herself and Levin, and hastening to
number as many months as he.
Night after night she dreamed of
doins: what she knew he did. and

LEGEND OF JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASS E.

3S9

morning by morning she awoke
under a moral cloud.

Last night, however, she had
dreamed that she no longer had con-
science, that her personality had
been merged in an unknown power,
as a fleck of cloud is lost in a tem-
pest, and that she was no longer re-
sponsible for her misdeeds in slum-
ber; and she had awakened with a
singularly exultant feeling inspired
hy the thought that there was now
no God separate from humanity, that
blind impulse might be followed at
will, — as John Levin had often said.

"I am too old, too old, as old as
the universe,'" Ra}-mond heard Mary
saying, as she was swinging the crane
to remove the steaming teakettle.

''You do look old, Mary," inter-
rupted the early visitor. ' ' I never
thought of it before ; but you look
many years older than when I went
to jail. I must have been imprisoned
long; too long, I know. Prithee,
what makes your eyes so dim ? You
need spectacles."

Youth leaped into Mary's eyes,
and the incubus went up chimney,
the instant she heard Raymond's
tread and voice. "Yes, I am your
grandmother, and glad to see so
bright a boy, so early in the morn-
ing," and she approached, placing
both hands upon both his shoulders,
and looking into his eyes till she saw
her own image. " I am glad to see
you, Raymond. I am always glad to
see you." And her dark eyes flashed,
and her dark features flushed slightly.
"No, Raymond," she added, as he
seated himself upon the settle in the
chimney corner, " I am not so very
old, not so old as I feel. In fact, I
presume that my sorrow over your
prison life has had its effect upon my

constitution. Do you not see that I
am slightly bent with age?" And
Mary drew herself up to full height,
and threw her head and shoulders
back. "Yes, Raymond, my age
tells upon my spirits, you see."

The bean porridge being hot, the
twain broke their fast.

" Did it never occur to you, Ray-
mond, that John Levin has aged fast
of late ? He seems much older than
when I first knew him? "

"' You and I, Man*, must not talk
of John Levin. I can only say that
he appears to me to be in perennial
youth, every day younger and more
full of life's energies than the day
before. Why do you ask ? "

" I had forgotten that you and I
may not suitably speak of John
Levin. But you know that it is as
natural for me to speak my thought
as to breathe. You do but listen to
my breathing if I speak of him, he
being always — almost always," she
added, archly, looking up to see if
Raymond's eyes met hers — " upper-
most in my thoughts. I have been
of late heavily oppressed with the
sense of his being very old ; that is,
of life experience too far beyond me.
And I find myself growing old be-
yond my years in trying to catch up
with his life and keep pace with him.
I do not know what I should do, if
he and I were to be married. I even
now dream that I do just what he
does, — of evil if he does evil."

"But, Mary, it's nonsense for a
young girl to bear all of another's
shortcomings. Look at me. I was
a very wicked fellow at sea, and from
my youth up. Would you begin to
bear my sins if you should engage to
marry me? I trow not."

" No, I should not. I have no

39Q

LEGEND OF JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE.

such feeling toward you as I have
toward Mr. Levin. You, I trust.
You, I am friendly with. Possibly,
Raymond," she said, looking sharply
into his eyes, " I might sometime
love you if you had not been so
wicked as to go to jail ! But John
Levin is a part of my life's life ; as
much so, as if he and I were of the
same piece, the same stock, as if vine
and branch, as our Master says. His
thoughts throb in my brain ; his pas-
sions touch me, soiling my nature, I
never knew myself to be so strangely
wrought into sympathy with another
person's life before. My mind has
broadened out resembling his, to
take in the world, the universe.
And. I am, like him, almost at sea
religiously since I knew him. I am
becoming his counterpart every way.
And I am as powerless to resist the
thoughts and mental experiences that
come surging in upon me, as I am to
check the tide-flow between the Ram
islands. See it whiten there on the
ledges now."

So were they drawn on to debate
that baneful subject, John Levin.
Raymond defended him, saying that
his early life was the parent of
to-day's life, that before he could
have been conscious of free will his
life had been warped by his mother,
who had been twisted by her ances-
try. "How can John Levin be
other than he is ? "

11 What ! Is there no free will ? "

" Yes, but I cannot judge how far
he is what he is by his own conscious
voluntary choice."

" Be that as it may, Raymond, I
am conscious in every fibre of my
being that I am interlocked with him
beyond power to escape, and that I
must bear his life as part of my life.

You will laugh at me. — no, you can-
not do that, it 's too serious a matter;
but I carry- John Levin in my heart
as some mother, — I tell you nay,"
she added laughing, "but a grand-
mother, — does a child. He is a bur-
den, a care. My love to him is not
love in the sense of companionship,
of friendship answering to friendship,
of heart to heart, but the love of seif-
devotement. I am distressed beyond
all expression to say it, and to say it
to you ; I do not dare to tell even
Martha what I tell you so frankly,
for she almost hates John Levin, or
rather she despises him. You have
charity for him, so I speak freely. I
believe him to be a man capable of
any and every* wickedness, and yet
he loves me. His whole soul is cen-
tered upon me. He does not believe
in one indivisible God hating wicked-
ness, but he has faith in me, the chief
of sinners, and confidence in my moral
instincts. He has apparently only
the slightest perception of right and
wrong, and what little he has seems
to be the outgrowth of his devotion
to me. He begins to hate what I
hate in some respects, but he is per-
fectly enslaved by old habit and can-
not free himself. And in other re-
spects he has absolutely no more con-
science than a shell-fish. Now this
would matter little, as we say, for the
world is full of such men ; but this
one man, John Levin, throws him-
self at my feet and adores me as a
goddess, much as a Hindoo does
some grotesque image, and protests
that I am morally of some use to
him. Not much, of course. Nor
would this matter, for we cannot
keep men from protesting, — even you,
Raymond, " and she looked across
the pine table into his eyes; "but

LEGEND OF JOHN LEVIN AND MARY GLASSE.

39i

the strange thing about it is, that on
my part, I am certain God out of
heaven has somehow made me of one
piece with him, so that I am at one
with him in nature ; and he calls me
his conscience, his better self, and
begs me never to forsake him. And
what can I do, — for I feel that I am
carrying him as I would a sick child ;
and my arms are breaking through
weakness, although they are not
weary of their burden, for I would
do anything for John Levin, except
give him dutiful support in his wick-
edness."

Raymond drew a long breath, and
asked after Mary's father and the
fishing business. And they went out
to watch the great rocks shouldering
off the seas ; for everywhere the
fringe of the sea was white. And
overhead they saw the dull eastern
sky slowly lighting up behind the
clouds, so offering an apology* for
sunshine. All that dark, wintry day
Raymond — to change the topic from
John Levin — rehearsed to Man' the
story of that burning bush which
he had repeatedly seen in the wet
grounds a little northerly from
Chubb's creek.

CH AFTER XXVI.

When, upon that same morning,
Peltiah Perkins reached home, he
found Farmer Ross pounding at his
front door.

" Who would have thought, Jock,"
said Ross to himself, "that you would
have been found in a deacon's door-
yard ? "

He called it a yard, although the
house stood upon the edge of un-
fenced land held in common, not far
from the shipyard and meeting-house.
The tap-room in the L, on the south

side, had an odor about it which
reconciled Jock to calling upon a dea-
con, although he had never been
there before.

"What, are you here so early!"
exclaimed Wybert Merry, a ship car-
penter who usually came to his work
before the hour, so as to see the dea-
con. "You cannot then be a stran-
ger. It is a jolly place to come to
on a winter morning. I wot. But
where 's the bar-keeper ? "

"Don't be so merry, my good
man," responded the elder, just ap-
proaching. "I'll wet your whistle
for you betimes. What now, Mr.
Ross? It 's long since we met. You,
too, must be athirst, if you 've been
afloat all night."

* l Xay, Deacon, I've not been on
the bay, but sitting up with John
Levin. I left him asleep in his ofhce
ai moonrise. My horse is in your
shed. He needs hay more than I
need to tickle my tongue.''

"All in a moment, sir, after I wait
011 Wybert. For your part, Jock, you
look as though you 'd had enough
over night. But I '11 entertain you,
both man and beast. Pray tell me,
what have you and the 'squire been
doing all night ? ' '

*' Nothing uncommon, I assure
you," replied Ross, setting down his
mug and wiping his mouth on his
sleeve.

'* Mischief, I wager," interposed
Merry, after first smacking his lips.
"You look it, and 'Squire Levin
I Ve sailed with."

"'You sail